


So Wrong

by EvilPan97



Series: The Captain and the Spider [3]
Category: Captain Marvel (2019), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2020-07-12 10:16:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 76,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19944514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvilPan97/pseuds/EvilPan97
Summary: Loving her is wrong, he knows that. Still, for the first time ... doing the wrong thing doesn't seem that bad.





	1. What I've Done?

**Author's Note:**

> This story is a sequel to " You Got Something For Me, Peter Parker?" and a prequel to " Avengers : The King Of Terror ".  
> I remind you that I'm not English but Italian, so I apologize for all the grammatical errors you will find in this chapter. I'm still looking for a beta reader, so if anyone is interested, come forward! I just need someone to correct my grammatical errors.

[](https://imgbb.com/)   
  
  


Peter put the good china on the table. White porcelain with blue enamelled motifs: floral ornaments and intricate images of ancient Asian villages where no one in his family has ever been.

The oriental service, his aunt called it, inherited from her mother to be used only on Sundays and on special occasions. And besides being Sunday, that was also a special day for Peter, because it was his eighteenth birthday ... and also the last day of suspension.

"My advice, Pete, is to find a better excuse," May Parker said, as she opened a window to let the smoke out of the gas cooker, waving a duster. " Because I swear to you that, if you'll be suspended again for a nonsense like that, you'll be the one flying out of the window".

Peter was suspended because he had to pee. Or rather, because he said he had to pee. After his history teacher, Mr. Logan, said no, the boy pleaded. And when the man reiterated his no, Peter left the room.

So, in fact, he was suspended because he left the class. But the fact was that he didn't really pee. And no, he didn't even have to do that other thing. Peter had to rescue someone. Or so he believed.

The truth was that his spider-sense wasn't very reliable in this period.

The vigilante hypothesized that the cause could be implicated, however absurd, at puberty. After all, his body was facing various biological modifications, it couldn't be ruled out that his powers would also be affected.

But he couldn't take risks; he couldn't ignore what he considered his responsibility.

Even if what happened next, with his aunt, made him seriously consider such a course of action.

After returning home, the woman led him to the exit of the house, right on the porch, with her hands wrapped around a cup of coffee.

" So let's talk about this suspension" she said, taking a sip of the drink. " What exactly happened?"

The tone was hard and sharp.

" Well, emh, it was that ... my head hurted... I had a ... a feeling" Peter stammered.

Even May, for some time, was aware of his secret. After all, his aunt was still ... his aunt. Not to Spiderman, but to Peter Parker. A concept that she replied to him as often as possible.

"So it was because you had to go save someone? Well, listen, let me ask you a question, superhero ..."

She took another sip of coffee.

" When you are in danger…who will come to save YOU?"

Peter sat in silence, looking for an answer that would convince the woman, but at the same time praying that any pretext would appear to change the subject.

For a moment, those words aroused in him a very precise memory. One year ago, he found himself in a hopeless situation, without a way out, and was saved by someone. A woman of pure light, descending from the sky like an avenging angel to protect him ...

He shook his head from those thoughts and stared at the vault.

The sun was starting to set, a golden strip that illuminated the red bricks of the buildings, when a miracle occurred, in the form of the noisy waste collection trucks.

"I'm safe!" Peter thought, as he and his aunt dropped the prickly speech to watch the garbage workers making slow progress along the road: one was driving, two were walking beside the vehicle and collecting bags, emptying bins and depositing them back on the sidewalk .

Ten minutes passed and Peter still had no idea what he and his aunt did out there, until the truck finished collecting in their block.

" Do you know what? We'll talk about this later. Meanwhile, why don't you clean up?"

"What do you mean?"

May just shrugged, and had another drink. Then, she pointed up and down the street.

" See all that cans? Be a good hero and put them back in their place. Helping neighbors is the most heroic thing you can do right now".

Peter sighed.

" Oh" the woman continued, with an impertinent smile. " And collect all that trash that our fantastic garbage collectors left around"

" With what?" Peter asked, disgusted.

He soon regretted not having one of his spider webs, so as not to have to touch the plastic bags with the dog droppings and the fish entrails. On the other hand, he couldn't throw his cobwebs when he was wearing a pajama.

" Surprise me" May replied, affectionately tapping his face.

And that was only the beginning of his punishment. Once he was out, he had to clean the apartment, put up mountains of laundry for the laundromat, and prepare his own dinner, which ended up being instant Chinese noodles with spicy sauce and toast.

On Saturday, his aunt took him back and forth to the block, knocking on every door to ask the neighbors if they needed some work. He was forced to carry an old mattress from Mrs. Myers's basement, to hang paintings in Mr. Jankines's house, and to take out all the neighborhood dogs that had to go out for their needs.

And so on for his heroic deeds for neighbors. Incumbency after incumbency. Chore after chore. Spaghetti after spaghetti.

Peter shuddered at the memory, and continued to set the table diligently.

"Oh, and before I forget," Aunt May said, drawing his attention. "Pepper called me, she says that Fury requested an Avengers meeting at her house."

The vigilante raised an eyebrow.

" We usually do them at the base" he commented with a suspicious look.

The woman just shrugged.

" Don't look at me, you know I have no control over certain things. Whatever the case, the house is quite far away, so I'll accompany you. We'll leave in an hour, so go take a shower!"

* * *

**XXXX**

* * *

Pepper Stark's house was immersed in a wooded area not far from New York.

On one side of the main road, a weed-infested path opened up, barely large enough to allow a car to pass and was suitable for destroying the shock absorbers.

After a few hundred meters, the path ended in a clearing surrounded by ancient trees.

The house, a splendid hut with a front porch, stood right there in the middle. From the city you couldn't see it, you had to know the road.

Peter and May walked through the tall grass of the garden with a padded step.

They went up the few steps of the veranda and knocked. No one seemed to be at home.

Peter gave his aunt a wary look, and she shrugged.

With a resigned sigh, the vigilante pushed open the door, which opened in a slight squeak.

For a moment he stopped, undecided, then entered.

The entrance room was simple but welcoming. On the walls there were hung Indian masks and tapestries. Around a low wooden table, woven and colored chairs. Chinese culture rugs decorated a sofa.

Two shelves were full of every possible object of daily use, but also of those wooden rattles that the Japanese used in ceremonies and ritual songs.

By now knowing the place by heart, the boy reached the hall.

" Mrs. Stark, I am here ..."

" HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"

Peter required every ounce of his own self-control to not jump on the ceiling and stay attached to it.

Confetti, balloons and streamers set off from every corner of the room, while numerous figures emerged from behind the furniture, armchairs and sofas. And he knew them all.

Pepper Stark and her daughter Morgan dominated the group, flanked by Happy Hogan, Nick Fury and Maria Hill. Behind them there was a now aged Steve Rogers, Bucky Burns, Sam Wilson, Clint Burton, spouses Scott and Hope Lang, and Colonel James Rhodes. The immense figure of Doctor Bruce Banner overlooked the whole, the arms spread like a presenter and the lips curled into a radiant smile. Besides, that was the same expression that adorned everyone's faces, even though in Fury's case it was much less obvious.

Peter found himself speechless.

" But how ... you ... I ... I can't believe it, you really did it !" he exclaimed shocked, passing his head from side to side of the room.

Steve stepped forward first, laying a hand on the vigilante's shoulder.

" You deserve it, kid" he said proudly, while Happy held him in a warm embrace.

" The kid just became a man" he said in a voice filled with fake nostalgia, which made most of those present chuckle.

At the same time, May hugged his nephew from behind.

" Congratulations, my little superhero"

"Aunt Mayyyyy," Peter whimpered, as his cheeks turned red. The reaction unleashed another wave of laughter, accentuating the embarrassment experienced by the walls-climber.

Then, the small figure of Morgan walked to him.

" Happy birthday, Peter" the little girl said, handing him a paper sheet under the moved gaze of her mother.

It depicted a drawing of Peter in his Spiderman suit, flanked by the doodles of Iron Man, his wife and the same girl, with a caricature of the house in the background.

The boy felt a pang in his chest and gave Morgan an affectionate smile.

"Thank you, princess," he said, shaking her hair amicably.

The little girl beamed and proceeded to hug him, a gesture that was promptly returned by the vigilante.

At that precise moment, the exterior of the house was illuminated by an intense golden glow. He heard a whoooom, which grew to become a WHOOOOM in the fraction of a few seconds, quickly followed by a loud thud.

Peter's heart skipped a beat. He would have recognized that light everywhere. It was a vision that accompanied his dreams for countless nights.

The silence fell in the hall. Then, the figure of Carol Danvers, aka Captain Marvel, made her way past the door, still permeated with a faint sparkle.

Peter's eyes lit up with joy, while the young woman with short blond hair, dressed in a brown leather jacket, tight jeans and sunglasses, greeted the gathered people with a friendly smile.

She was the angel of that memory long gone, exactly as he remembered her.

"Sorry I'm late," she said in a slightly embarrassed tone as she put her glasses back in her jacket pocket.

Fury passed Peter, who has remained motionless and still since the appearance of his crush, and proceeded to embrace the superheroine.

" Glad to have you among us, we thought you were been kidnapped" the Director of the Shield commented, while Carol rolled her eyes playfully.

" The mission took longer than expected" she admitted with a shrug.

Then, her hazel eyes settled on Peter's figure, and the boy felt his interiors melt like snow in the sun.

" But I wouldn't have missed this party for nothing in the world" the woman continued, approaching the vigilante with a mischievous grin and planting a quick kiss on his cheek " Happy birthday, Pete"

The young Avenger blushed intensely and muttered something that sounded vaguely like a "Thank You".

Then he remained silent, too embarrassed to be able to deliver an articulate speech.

Fortunately, Scott Lang was more than happy to remove him from that humiliating situation.

" So, what are we waiting for? Let's kick off this party!" the man exclaimed, provoking shouts of agreement by his teammates. All under the gaze of his wife, who gave her husband a visibly annoyed look.

From that moment on, the birthday took a rather mundane turn. Exchange of gifts, snacks, occasional dances, up to the inevitable cake with the number 18 printed in large letters. It was chocolate, just like Peter liked it.

After almost three hours, the various Avengers started to brought out the alcohol and exchange war stories, events that ranged from the last missions to simple matters of daily life.

Peter took advantage of that moment to sneak out of the house, without being noticed.

The evening air was warm and filled with a sparkling spring atmosphere.

The boy took a deep breath and sat down comfortably on the rocking bench that was on the porch of the cabin.

It was the first time he received a party of this magnitude, usually he used to spend his birthdays with Aunt May or Ned, maybe playing video games or watching movie marathons.

Needless to say, though he liked the surprise, he felt a bit overwhelmed by the whole situation.

" Do you like solitude?" a familiar voice came behind him, making him jump.

The teenager spun around. Carol stood there, leaning against the door jamb, her arms crossed in front of her chest and her face adorned by that timeless smile. In her right hand she held a pack of beer in cans.

" Generally yes" Peter replied, after a brief moment of silence.

The woman chuckled and proceeded to sit beside him.

" You must feel really comfortable with yourself" she commented, giving him an impertinent look.

Peter blushed slightly and looked away. " What makes you think that?"

" If you prefer to be alone, rather than enjoying a party like this ... it means that your company must be really appreciated" Carol continued with a shrug.

Trying in every way to hide his excitement, the vigilante released a theatrical sigh.

" Sure. When I'm alone I can do whatever I want. I can like myself, hate myself ..."

" So you hate yourself?" the woman suddenly asked.

Peter turned abruptly, noticing that the superheroine's cheerful smile was replaced by a discontented frown.

He swallowed hard and said, "Sometimes. And when it happens ... I hate myself for this".

Carol remained silent, still and motionless, scanning him for what seemed an interminable time. Without realizing it, Peter found himself drowning in those warm brown eyes once again. They seemed able to drive away all suffering, every bad thought. He wished he could fix them forever.

"I think you need a beer," the Half-Kree said, interrupting the boy's mental ramblings.

He stared at her with a confused expression.

"I turned eighteen, Carol, not twenty-one," he said with a little smile.

Carol just shrugged.

" I drank my first alcoholic beverage when I was sixteen. I don't think your aunt will be angry, " she said, throwing a can at him, which Peter caught thanks to his improved reflexes.

" Then you don't know her very well" he muttered with an ironic tone, turning the drink over in his hands as if it was a bomb ready to explode. All under the amused gaze of Carol, internally impressed by the maturity of judgment that the vigilante was demonstrating.

After a minute, the teenager pointed a finger at the blonde, as a sign of warning.

" Keep it under your hat"

" My lips are sealed" Carol replied, grabbing a can for herself and opening it without the slightest effort. Peter did the same and hesitantly took it to his mouth.

He took a quick sip ... and nearly choked.

Next to him, the woman put her hand in front of her face to hide a laugh.

"It's stronger than I thought," the vigilant muttered, coughing a couple of times.

The Half-Kree tapped him amicably on the back.

" Just because you're not used to it. In time you won't even notice it" she said in a reassuring tone.

Peter gave her a look not entirely convinced. However, after recovering, he decided to make another attempt.

"So ... to health," he said hesitantly, raising the can he was holding. Carol beat it with hers own, and they both began to drink.

To his surprise, Peter found himself agreeing with the words of the superheroine. It wasn't so bad now that he was prepared for the unusual taste.

He glanced sideways at Carol, and she did the same. Both of them haven't broken their lips from the can opening yet.

Almost unconsciously, Peter tilted the container slightly and began to drink faster. Next to him, the superheroine's eyes shone defiantly.

The woman imitated the boy's action and they both started to gulp down their respective beers with more emphasis.

After just thirty seconds, however, Peter broke away from the can and started coughing loudly.

" That was a bad idea" he muttered almost to himself, while Carol finished the last sips of the drink.

She crushed the metal cylinder in her hands and gave the boy a teasing smile.

" Challenge me to a drinking contest or finish your beer with a single sip?" she asked rhetorically.

Peter slumped back in his chair, releasing a groan.

" Both of them" he murmured with a suffering sigh, arousing a musical laugh by his teammate.

Peter lost himself in that sound and smiled. God, he never tired of hearing her laugh.

Carol handed him a second beer.

" Another one?" she asked defiantly, while the teenager stared at her with an impassive look.

He passed his head from the can to the woman's face, and released a second sigh.

" Ok, I'm in. After all, I'm a man now" he commented with a shrug, his lips curled into a self-deprecating smile.

Carol nodded approvingly and exclaimed: "This is the spirit!"

Soon, without even realizing it, they found themselves talking about this and that.

How Peter was taking Carol's advice on college enrollment to heart, applying to various biotechnology universities, or the adventures she faced over the past year, among their various meetings.

Carol even went so far as to tell him the events that brought her back to Earth after being captured by the Kree, a story that only she, Fury and those few people who were directly involved in the incident knew.

Needless to say, the boy was extremely fascinated by the whole narration, and even a little amused.

" No, no, wait, let me understand. This guy tried to make you fight hand to hand, in order to show him that you were a worthy warrior ... and you just hit him with a blast ?!" Peter asked, his face adorned with the smile of a person who was trying in every way not to burst out laughing.

Carol sent him a knowing smile and replied with a resounding: " Yep"

At that point, the teenager could no longer restrain himself, and was quickly followed by the superheroine.

" I wish I was there" the vigilant commented, wiping an imaginary tear and taking a couple of soothing breaths.

Carol crossed her legs and looked up to the sky.

"We've come a long way, haven't we?"

" Yeah" Peter agreed, before his cheerful expression was replaced by a visibly darker one. " I just wish Tony was here to enjoy all this"

The woman jumped and gave the boy a worried look. He was always so carefree, so ... full of life. Seeing him in these conditions could upset her every time.

Without wasting time, she placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

The vigilante turned, staring at her with slightly glossy eyes. A vision that managed to grip her heart with a very unpleasant feeling.

"I've never been a religious type, Peter, but ... I'm sure that, wherever he's now, he's proud of the man you have become," she said with a sweet smile.

Peter returned the gesture, touched by the words of the superheroine. He wiped his tears with his elbow and took another quick gulp of beer.

"Thanks, I needed it," he said honestly, as the woman hit his shoulder with a friendly fist.

" What are friends for? Furthermore, I can't give you my gift with that long face"

Peter's eyebrows shot up, demonstrating his disbelief. The fact that Carol managed to find time to attend his birthday party was alreadya miracle. But that she came with a gift too ...

The boy's heart began to flutter in his chest, even though he did everything to hide the joy he was feeling at that precise moment.

Meanwhile, the woman pulled something out of her jacket pocket.

"I pulled some strings, and managed to get a permit to visit the NASA center and watch the launch of the new Space ShuttleOmero," she said, handing a couple of pieces of paper.

" What?!" Peter exclaimed, his eyes dilated like dishes.

He grabbed a ticket and read it from top to bottom, under Carol's amused gaze

" I know how much you like these things, so ..."

" You're the best!"

The woman didn't have time to finish the sentence. After hearing that exclamation, she felt a pair of arms wrap around her neck, and Peter's body crushed against her.

Initially surprised, the superheroine's cheeks turned red, even though the darkness of the night managed to hide the thing.

Realizing what he just did, Peter immediately pulled back, visibly alarmed.

" O-oh, sorry" he muttered embarrassed, looking away with an equally scarlet shade that adorned his face.

He was pretty adorable, Carol had to admit to herself.

" Don't worry, You don't need to apologize. It was ... cute" she said with a clumsy smile, ruffling his hair.

If possible, Peter seemed to blush even more intensely.

In an attempt to hide it, he took another can of beer and started drinking, followed by the woman. And they continued to do so for a while, accompanied only by silence and their respective company.

Thanks to their advanced biology they were able to withstand large amounts of alcohol without suffering serious effects, but after a while even Peter's mind began to wander, becoming more blurred.

Then, around midnight, the teenager took a deep breath.

" It's not so cold. Do you want to take a tour around the lake?" he asked out of the blue, surprising his team-mate.

Carol put her hand to her forehead and smiled.

" With a swim?" she asked flirtatiously.

" W-what? No, no, of course not! I, uh ... I meant ..." he stammered, trying to find the right words to counter such a statement.

After taking a couple of soothing breaths, he stared at the blonde with confidence.

" Let's go to the lake, we bring a few cans with us and ..." he stopped.

" And?" she asked, full of anticipation.

"… we look at the stars"

They stared at each other for a long time and Peter felt that his inner resistance was failing.

He felt himself saying things he didn't want to say; there was something that pressed all the right buttons and pulled all the right levers to operate the mechanism. He awakened expectations, invited himself and Carol to do what people generally were led to do if they were near a lonely lake in the company of someone. He wanted to go back in New York and, at the same time, he wanted to hold her in his arms.

He cursed the turn things has taken, but at the same time he couldn't help himself, probably due to the effect of alcohol.

" …Ok, I'm in" the woman finally said, with a disarming smile.

Internally, Peter found himself sighing with relief.

Outside there was no wind and the air was permeated by the sound produced by the cicadas. During the short trip they didn't say a word.

After five minutes of walking, they found themselves in a small clearing bordering the lake shore and sat down, sipping another couple of cans.

" Sit on your back, look at the sky ... and the universe, with all that it contains, will be yours. Try it" Carol invited him, once they finished the beers.

Peter did as he was told and sank in the grass. At the same time, he raised his head towards the immense starry vault that illuminated the darkness of the night.

The superheroine lay down beside him, and the teenager found himself unable to stop a quick glance.

Carol was looking at him. Her eyes shone in the darkness of the night.

"Have you ever seen shooting stars?" she asked, her lips curled up in a placid smile.

Peter swallowed a second time.

" Yes, sometimes"

" And have you ever wished for something?"

" I'm rather lacking in romantic substance" the boy admitted, while approaching his own body to hers. " I simply enjoyed them"

The woman chuckled. " I forgot, you are a man of science"

" And I'm probably the last person in the world who could believe in something" Peter said, with a background of self-irony.

" So, flowers and shooting stars don't have the slightest effect on you. Well, anyone who tries to woo you will have a lot of work to do. Apparently, the most romantic thing a person can give you is an analysis of the stability of high-tech constructions" Carol commented, chuckling at her own words.

Peter looked at her for a moment. Then, he threw back his head and slowly lay down.

" Do you really believe that?"

She leaned on her elbows and watched him. " No, I don't"

" Do you think I can't be romantic?"

"I think you never thought about what it means to be romantic," she replied impassively.

Their eyes met once again. For a long time. Too long.

Peter stood up with his elbows, realizing that he was much closer to her than he had initially thought. His mind was clouded with alcohol, and he felt euphoric as never before.

" Maybe you can show me how to be romantic" Peter whispered in a weak voice, letting his eyes linger on the young woman's lips.

She dilated her pupils and began to stare at the vigilant. The teenager felt dissected by that look, and his heart began to beat much faster.

"I ... I don't think it's a good idea," Carol said after almost a minute of complete silence, her head slightly bent to one side. She also had reddened cheeks due to alcohol, and not only.

Without realizing it, Peter reached out and forced her to face him once more.

Time seemed to stop, as the woman's muscles became tense.

Thousands of noises and thoughts were chasing after the boy's brain, which then condensed into a vortex, tearing his concentration.

Both superheroes were still motionless, but full of tension, as if waiting for a signal, an authorization: here, please, one for him and one for her.

Now you can kiss the girl, Mr. Parker. Now you can be passionate, truly passionate. It's not so bad, but now, please, you have to believe in yourself!

Kiss. Now!

And Peter did just that.

As soon as his lips came into contact with hers, Carol gasped and widened her pupils.

She stared at the boy straight in the eye, but he had narrowed eyelids and a visibly relaxed air.

For a moment, the woman was driven by the impulse to move away, before that impulsive gesture could continue ... before it could become something else. Something more.

She tried to bend her head back and escape, but found herself unable to do so.

Every single contact was magnificent, intoxicating. And Peter didn't seem willing to give her an escape.

Carol's lips were warm and pleasant. He savored calmly every second of that wonderful moment, as he pulled the young woman's face closer to his with a quick wave of his hand.

Carol didn't object and responded to the kiss, almost as if she no longer wanted to do anything else.

Unconsciously, Peter found himself smiling on the woman's mouth. Everything was perfect.

Never before the boy has experienced such joy for sharing his feelings with someone. And it was beautiful, he thought.

After almost a minute, however, Carol put her hands on the vigilante's shoulders.

" Peter ... enough" she whimpered between kisses. Peter, however, didn't seem to notice her, and leaned forward further.

The woman closed her eyes, losing herself once more in that contact.

Then she pursed her lips and pulled back sharply.

"I ... I can't," she gasped, trying to catch her breath.

She looked up, and saw Peter's wounded look.

The heart of the superhero missed a beat. No, no, no ... she didn't want him staring at her like that. Full of pain ... and betrayal.

It was a harrowing vision ... it was wrong.

Almost as if he had caught something in the woman's eyes, the boy's expression became more determined.

"Then stop me," he whispered, leaning forward once more, his lips just a few millimeters from Carol's.

The woman's breath began to accelerate as her gaze settled on that inviting temptation. All in the fraction of a few seconds.

And when that short amount of time came to an end ... Carol grabbed Peter's hair and pushed him towards her, meeting his mouth with a more hungry kiss. The boy groaned on her lips and pushed his body against hers.

He felt something warm and unknown making its way into his stomach, and the contact with the woman's figure did nothing but accentuate that feeling.

And Carol felt the exact same thing, sighing with pure bliss and letting the ecstasy of the moment take control of her mental faculties.

She abandoned herself to that passionate and inexperienced kiss. Apparently Peter hadn't kissed many girls, but she didn't care. It was cute, in a sort of adorable way. As if those kisses were for her and no one else. As if she owned him ... like he was hers.

"Oh God, I'm kissing a kid," she whispered to herself. No ... not a kid. A young man. That faced so much pain ad loss…

Someone who fought at her side with his nails and teeth. A warrior ... a hero.

She wouldn't deny him that moment of joy, not after all he endured.

She leaned back, letting Peter climb her body, moaning as the vigilante's hands began to snake under her jacket ... under her shirt ... on her skin ...

" Parker!"

Both froze.

They separated from each other with the same rapidity of lightning, both turning towards the forest that bordered the clearing. Their alarmed faces, however, were replaced by expressions filled with relief as soon as they realized there was none.

Shortly after, the figure of Happy came out of the trees, covered with leaves.

He saw them both sitting in the middle of the clearing and smiled with satisfaction.

" Here you are!" he exclaimed jovially, approaching the pair of superheroes and giving a quick look at the empty cans scattered in the area. " Have you decided to bring the party out here? Not bad, even if the temperature is not the best"

" Did you need something Happy?" Peter asked in a slightly trembling voice, almost angry.

Carol gave him a warning look, but Happy didn't seem to notice.

" Right, your aunt sent me to look for you, she's about to go home" he said pointing to the direction of Pepper's house.

The vigilante was about to reply but, shortly before he could do that, Carol interrupted him with a quick: " Then we shouldn't make her wait any longer ".

Peter gave the woman an incredulous expression, but she didn't even look at him. She simply went past both him and Happy, disappearing into the forest with a slow and marked pace.

Tony Stark's former assistant turned to him.

" So, do you want to stay there all night? Come on, let's go!"

And as the vigilante began to follow the man, a single and simple thought started to pound in his head: "What have I done?"


	2. Can you feel it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thank 1Storywriter1 ( another big fan and writer of the ship Carol x Peter ), for helping me correct the grammar of this chapter (since I'm not English).

Peter Parker, aka Spiderman, took a run-up and jumped over the Stark Industries ledge. Having done this, he began to circle over the buildings of the City Center.

From the bell tower with the clock to the court, from the roofs of luxury condominiums to those of social housing. And without even realizing it, almost as if he had opened his eyes suddenly, he found himself in his neighbourhood.

It was hit by a cacophony of sounds and noises, very different from the subdued background of Times Square. The screech of bus brakes. The trumpeting of taxis. Boys screaming under basketball hoops. Music broadcast by radio and mixed with the noises of the city itself.

Peter perched on the roof of a supermarket and began to analyse the surrounding area.

A little further down there was a group of kids coming down from a bus: a patch of bright colours and crested hair that made them look older.

Peter saw them walking along the sidewalk, laughing and joking, until they reached the corner. As soon as they reached the end of the road, they all fell silent as they passed a group of older boys, one of whom said something.

Bzzzzzzzzz. The spider sense started to vibrate in the vigilante's head.

The younger boys didn't linger or face the threat. They simply separated, moving away each in a different direction. Only one of the older boys broke away from his clique to chase them, and he targeted the most dressed up kid. The one with the tuft of blond hair.

Peter leaped onto the next building, and from there to the one after that, following the hunt from above. The boy ran like a rocket on the sidewalk, occasionally jumping on the road to avoid the crowd, zigzagging from block to block, with the thug following him at close range.

Then the boy turned sharply to the left of the avenue and rushed down a less travelled road. _Perhaps_ _the_ _street_ _where_ _he_ _lived_ , Peter thought, continuing to observe him from above.

Having no more obstacles in front of him, the pursuer extended his pace and joined him. He grabbed the boy by the shoulders, then he put his arm around him, holding him in a seemingly fraternal grip.

The boy didn't say a word or call for help.

Peter knew that silence well. The silence of those who know that shouting is useless and is against the rules. Screaming only serves to make the situation worse. The same tactic he used during all those years of being targeted by his school bullies.

They took a few steps, pretending it was all normal, until Peter saw the smaller boy who was starting to take his wallet out of his trouser pocket.

The wallcrawler didn't wait and threw himself down from the palace. When the boy handed the money to the thief, the vigilante was already behind him.

The boy's eyes widened. The thief turned and found himself facing the white eyes of the spider mask. He didn't say a word. He just grunted and shook his head.

"You'd better think of your own business," the man said, lifting his shirt to show him the butt of the pistol he was carrying in his belt.

" _This_ is my business" Peter replied.

He and his opponent faced each other on the sidewalk. The boy slipped away in silence and climbed the stairs of one of the houses.

The thief dropped his wallet. At the same time, Peter's spider sense began to vibrate.

The man pulled out the loaded pistol and prepared to fire. The vigilante didn't even give him time to remove the safety.

He leaped forward, grabbed the thief's wrist ... and broke it with a swift movement of his fingers. The resulting scream echoed along the entire length of the neighbourhood, followed by a desperate lament.

Peter punched his opponent's face quickly, pinning him to the ground. He began to cry, holding his now unusable hand.

The wall-climber merely pulled a couple of well-placed kicks into his stomach.

" Look at you: acting all big and strong. But you're just a coward" he said shaking his head, and then jumped on him.

He grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and raised a fist. A moment before bringing it down like a hammer in the face of his opponent, Peter saw the boy out of the corner of his eye. He was watching the scene, terrified. His eyes were fixed on him.

Peter stopped. He pulled himself up, the thief was now reduced to a helpless larva, splattered on the pavement. The teenager grabbed the gun a few steps from him and crushed it under his feet. Then he turned the thug on the ground and clasped his hands behind his back, his broken wrist already swollen like a grapefruit.

The thief gave another scream and Peter trapped his arms, wrapping them in a spider's web.

After that, he bent over the thief's feet and tore off his shoes. He went to deliver them to the boy, who was trembling with fear.

" Do whatever you want with them" he muttered in a low voice.

Then he bent to the ground to find himself at a distance from the beaten and bloodied face of the evildoer.

" Tell everyone about what just happened to you. And if you, or any one of you, should try again ... I will know. See, you don't know me, but I know you. And I'll come looking for you" he hissed in a low voice.

While the boy proceeded to leave, Peter fired a spider web at a lamppost and flew away as if hanging by a liana.

He threw cobwebs to the right and to the left, in front of him and above him, letting them stick to the structures that were close to him: light poles, tall buildings, construction scaffolding.

As he cut through the air, the effect of adrenaline was exhausted, forcing him to confront the fact that he almost beaten a boy to death.

_What if I killed him? Right there, in front of that kid. And... what if I killed him?_

Tears filled his eyes, but he didn't cry.

Why did he feel this way? He knew it well, actually, but he didn't want to admit it to himself.

Since that night , on his eighteenth birthday, almost a week ago. The night he stole a kiss from the woman he fell in love with.

And now he was paying the consequences of that impulsive days have passed since that night, but Peter and Carol haven't spoken to each other once.

He tried to contact her through the Avengers private network ... but nothing. She refused to answer him.

_Is that it, then,_ the boy thought. _Did I really ruin_ everything _?_

He could only imagine how Carol felt after what happened. Humiliated, confused ... surely betrayed. And he was the cause.

God, he was so stupid! How the hell could he think that a woman like her could feel affection for someone like him? Feel affection for a boy of eighteen who never went beyond the first date with a schoolmate.

Without realizing it, Peter threw a punch at the wall of the building he landed on. He regretted that action almost immediately.

He hissed in pain, clutching his hand to his chest.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, he removed the glove of the suit and noticed that the knuckles started to bleed.

He released a defeated sigh. He couldn't go on like this.

He barely ate, he was distracted at school, always angry. Even his aunt started to notice that there was something wrong.

"I've decided," he whispered to himself, with renewed determination. " I'll go talk to her tomorrow ... in person".

He started to move, but a pang in his arm forced him to stop.

Perhaps it was the case to medicate that hand.

* * *

**XXXX**

* * *

**The next day**

Peter passed the door of his house. He continued along the block and turned the corner towards a flower shop. In front of the windows were buckets full of roses. One of the clerks was fixing them.

" How much are these flowers?" the vigilante asked, attracted by the beauty of the plants.

" Fifteen dollars" the man said.

Peter didn't even try to bargain. He pulled straight without looking back.

The roses were a classic, of course, Carol would certainly have liked them, but so he would have spent half his pocket money.

The next stop was the store **Everything For a Dollar**.

An old woman kept the door open for him as he entered the room, filled with paper trays, wedding favours, greeting cards and sub-brand versions of pretty much anything that had ever been invented.

Peter turned this way and that, peering down every corridor between the shelves, before finding Gladys, the woman who took care of the place. She was crouched on the floor, busy sticking labels with the price on bathroom deodorants.

" Hey, Gladys"

"Peter?" She said, looking surprised to see him. Which was also understandable, since the vigilante was rarely around that part of the city.

" What are you doing here?"

" Looking for flowers"

" Flowers?" the woman asked, standing up with a grimace.

She crossed both arms in front of her chest.

" I know you still don't have the age for dating. I still remember when your aunt paid me to babysit you, and you did nothing but piss yourself, uninterruptedly. And now here you are, buying flowers"

" I'm eighteen, Gladys, I'm not that young. And then the flowers are not for a girl. They are for ... my aunt"

" Uh huh. It will be better for you" the woman joked. " How kind you are. I hope my son will be as considerate as you when he grows up. Come on!"

She led Peter to the opposite side of the store, where the flowers were displayed.

" Here they are" she said pointing to the rows of green and red, a whole autumn in the second shelf.

The teenager raised an eyebrow.

" But don't you have the real ones? This is plastic" he observed, clutching the fabric petal of one of the fake roses between his fingers.

"Boy, this is **Everything For a Dollar** ," Gladys replied.

The vigilante took a rose and sniffed it. At least it had some kind of aroma on it that tasted like strawberry.

" And just so you know... those cost two dollars **"** the woman added, causing a groan from the wallcrawler.

* * *

**XXXX**

* * *

In spite of what most ordinary people thought, less than a quarter of the Avengers used Stark Tower - the team's de facto base - as a residence.

Carol was one of those few exceptions that chose to take advantage of the latest directive imposed by Tony Stark, who specifically donated the building to the most famous superhero group of the entire planet.

The woman, in fact, never remained too long on Earth, which is why she has always considered the purchase of a separate house a total waste of time.

Peter climbed the elevator of the building with his heart pounding and the bouquet of flowers held firmly behind his back.

He was wearing a denim shirt, with a white t-shirt underneath, and matching beige trousers.

He came to this place with a single, simple mission in mind: to repair his relationship with the person who stole his heart.

" This sounded better in my head" he muttered to himself, as the machinery doors opened.

The teenager wasted no time and started searching for Carol's apartment.

The various addresses where the avengers lived were distributed to all team members for potential emergencies, so it was not difficult for him to locate the right door.

Once he reached his destination, he closed his eyes and knocked.

" Yes? " an unmistakable voice asked from the other side of the door.

Peter took a couple of soothing breaths.

"It's ... It's me" he said uncertainly, trying not to look too nervous.

For a moment there was silence.

Then, to his great relief, the teenager felt the door locking system being opened.

The figure of Carol appeared before him. She wore a black t-shirt with no shoulders, which highlighted her soft feminine curves, tight gray trousers and a pair of kick boxing gloves.

" Peter" she greeted, her face adorned with an impassive expression. Even the tone of voice she used was devoid of heat. Completely cold and detached.

The wall-climber distractedly noticed that her skin was brighter than usual, wet with drops of sweat, and, considering her clothing, he came to the conclusion that he interrupted her during a workout.

Swallowing a second time, he raised the bouquet of flowers he kept hidden behind his back, surprising the woman.

" I've come to apologize" he said with courage, appealing to every ounce of self-control he had in his body not to stutter. " Can I come in?"

Carol briefly looked from him to the flowers. She grabbed the deck slowly and peered at it critically.

" I tried to look for real ones, but I'm running out of money" the vigilante added with a little smile, in an attempt to defuse the situation.

The woman looked back at him, her eyes narrowed in a couple of thin lines. Then, after what seemed an interminable time, she released a sigh and stepped aside.

" Go ahead" she muttered with a resigned voice.

Peter nodded his thanks and crossed the threshold of the house.

He immediately started looking around. As expected, it was mostly a bare apartment, quite rustic, but still orderly, a symbol of discipline and diligence. There was not a single thing out of place.

" Do you want something to drink?" Carol asked, as she filled a carafe with water and put the flowers in it. Of course, they didn't need it, but from an aesthetic point of view they would have been much more pleasant to see.

Peter muttered a simple "No", and proceeded to sit on the only sofa in the living room. Beside it stood a yoga bed and a large box bag hanging from the ceiling, which confirmed the boy's previous hypothesis.

The superheroine joined him shortly thereafter, crossing her legs on the pillows and staring at him patiently.

Peter began to tap his knees. He was visibly nervous, but the blonde decided not to let him notice.

"So ... is everything okay?" he asked her after almost a minute of silence.

Carol didn't answer. She gave no sign of even hearing him. She simply stood there, staring at him.

Needless to say, Peter began to feel rather uncomfortable.

" Obviously ... our friendship is too strong for love" he offered weakly, with a self-deprecating smile.

He knew it sounded banal and pathetic, but it had the desired effect. The woman's impassive expression shattered, even if only for a moment.

She began to chuckle, first with nervousness, then evidently relieved. She covered her face with one hand, as if she wanted to erase that laughter too strong and completely out of place, but it kept coming out, though choked with fingers.

Peter offered a weak smile, internally happy that he was able to break through her armour.

They were silent for a while longer.

" Are you angry?" he finally asked her, in a low voice. _Here,_ he thought. _The moment of truth_.

The woman gave him a brief look.

" No. I thought I was, but ... I was probably just trying to metabolize ... well, all that happened. And you?"

" No, no, of course not!" the other retorted, his face adorned with an agitated expression.

Despite her best judgment, Carol found herself staring at him with an amused look, which prompted the boy to take a couple of soothing breaths.

" I'm just a little bit… embittered, I suppose" he said with a shrug, receiving an eyebrow raised by the blonde.

Peter sank into the back of the sofa, almost as if he felt tired.

"It's just ... it's all so rambling. That evening, in that clearing, if Happy hadn't arrived ... less than a minute and ... I mean, it could have happened"

_And here it is. The elephant in the room_ , Carol thought.

" Are you sorry that it didn't happen?" she asked curiously, peering at him intently.

She was expecting a denial, maybe a witty reply, and instead ... the vigilante simply tilted his head towards her, his lips curled up in an almost resigned smile.

" I don't know. I mean, I was drunk, and ..."

" I need a sincere answer, Peter" the woman interrupted him, shortening the distance that separated them.

The teenager blushed instinctively.

" What do you want me to say?" he muttered in a low voice.

Carol put her elbow on the back of the sofa, used her arm to support her head and stared at him with a look full of expectation, severe but accommodating at the same time. Sometimes, Peter really wondered how she could do that.

" Do you feel something for me?" the woman asked. " Something that goes beyond mere friendship?"

An inexorable silence seemed to fall into the depths of the apartment. They remained completely still, locked in a seemingly endless stalemate, where the simple and rhythmic sound of their breaths was the only thing to accompanied them.

After that time came to an end ... Peter released a sigh.

"I thought I could escape you, Carol," he whispered almost to himself, as if he had finally come to terms with an uncomfortable truth.

There was a pause. If he expected an answer, he would wait a long time, Carol thought. He should have figured it out by himself.

Noting the woman's silence, the teenager decided to continue talking.

" I've always been different from my other schoolmates" he admitted with a sad smile. " I never wanted to really tie myself with someone. Of course, I had some teenage crushes, but in the end they were just that"

He shrugged, looking up at the immaculate white surface of the ceiling.

" There has never been a single moment when I thought: now it absolutely must happen. I've never been in love. I never wanted to be in love. But the idea that sooner or later could happen had its charm. I was even convinced that it would happen soon, I thought it was inevitable!"

That said, he turned his gaze back to Carol, who was listening patiently.

" Then _you_ came. I saw you on that battlefield and you were like a falling star from the sky, coming from who knows where…to chase away the darkness. And for the next two years, every time I met you, it was as if the world stopped, as if it no longer counted for anything but the fact that you were there with me at that precise moment. I felt happy, like never before. I didn't understand if it was love or ..."

"You just described the symptoms of love" she whispered, interrupting the vigilante's ramblings.

Peter swallowed a third time, trying to hide his nervousness with a dry laugh.

"Actually, I thought it was something else. Like the flu. I could no longer concentrate on my studies, I was constantly elsewhere with my head **,** I had the feeling that I was missing the ground under my feet **"**

" So you thought that, before losing control definitively, it was necessary to verify option one" she finished, receiving in exchange a shy nod from her teammate.

Silence again.

Peter raised his head slightly, and out of the corner of his eye he noticed that Carol was still staring at him with that impassive expression, her head resting on the palm of her hand.

"You're angry," he said, after almost a minute.

However, to his surprise, the woman merely sighed, giving him a tired smile.

" No, I ... I understand you" she said in a low voice, imitating his position and raising her eyes to the ceiling of the room.

Peter raised an eyebrow and started to scrutinize her with curiosity.

"Have you been with someone yet?" he asked at one point, before mentally slapping his forehead. She was a beautiful young woman in her prime, of course she has already been with someone!

" In this way, I mean" he quickly corrected himself.

" Once" Carol replied. " A long time ago"

Peter swallowed again.

" Your, um ... first love?"

" Mmmm"

" How did it happen?" he asked casually, trying not to appear too insistent.

Perhaps Carol noticed that, because she gave him a knowing look.

" Nothing original, really. I thought he was the right person, then he turned out to be a bastard ... and I was left only with pain" she said with a shrug.

Peter nodded sympathetically. Judging by what she told him during that night, she was probably talking about her ex-mentor, Yon-Rogg.

"And then?" he asked hesitantly.

Carol leaned forward and rested her chin on her hands. She sat there in the light of the room, with a small vertical line between her eyebrows. And she was gorgeous.

" After that, I was always the one leaving the others"

" The avenging angel" Peter commented, trying to play down the already very uncomfortable conversation.

The woman chuckled. " That's not true. No, sometimes the ones I knew got on my nerves. Too slow, too cute, too hard-witted. At other times I ran away to make myself safe first. You know I'm fast"

" Let's not build a nice house, because a storm could come and destroy it" Peter said, with a cunning smile.

Carol raised the corners of her mouth. " Too elegiac for me"

" Maybe, but it's true"

"Yes, maybe" the woman said, frowning. " There is also another possibility: build a house and, before someone else can destroy it…destroy it by yourself"

"…"

Both remained silent once again, accompanied only by each other's company.

Next to her, the vigilante started to brood over the words of the superheroine.

After almost a good minute, he took a deep breath and said, "You know ... I don't think I have the age to build a house."

Carol suddenly tensed, turning slowly toward him. Peter did the same.

Look against look ... brown that meets brown.

" No, you don't have it" the woman confirmed, stared at him with that intensity that usually reserved to the people who contradicted her.

The teenager swallowed, his cheeks slightly flushed. It was then that he realized one thing: they were only a few centimetres away from each other. Exactly like that evening a few days ago, in which he managed to catch the faint breath of the blonde. Even now he could hear it stroking his lips.

He instinctively leaned forward. However, just before he could catch the woman's mouth with his own, she tilted her head to the side.

" Peter ... no" she said in a serious tone.

The wall-climber withdrew, visibly wounded by that action.

Noticing this, Carol put a hand to her face, releasing a sigh to the limit between despondency and resignation.

" All this ... it is only a temporary phase" she stated with a patient tone. " You're simply attracted to me physically, that's all. And it's not a bad thing! For a person of your age is normal, and ..."

" You're wrong" he replied coldly, squeezing both his eyelids. An action that made him seem much more mature.

Carol's heart started to beat faster.

" Please, don't make this more complicated than it already is. You're eighteen, Peter. Eighteen! You should think about school, chase after girls of your age ..."

"Stop, I know what you're thinking".

She swallowed as the boy stared at her with a wry smile.

" He's young, he wants to have fun, to tell his friends ... but it's not like this" he said with de facto tone, holding his right hand forward and caressing her face with his fingers. The woman closed her eyes ... but did not withdraw from that contact. And that simple action was enough to lift the soul of the vigilante.

" I like you" he continued, putting in those words all the affection he felt for her. " Really ... I like you like I never liked anyone else before. And you have no idea how hard it was to say something like that, because honestly I'm terrified"

Against her best judgment, Carol pursed her lips in a sad smile, gently gripping the teammate's hand.

" Because everything has to do with fear" she said in a low voice, opening her eyes and staring back at him. " The fear of being alone, the fear that something will happen without being questioned. But the worst of all is the fear of choosing and making mistakes. You want someone you barely know, you want it at any cost. But you can only get him if you also take his whole life. From this arises a sort of uncertainty that makes people wary"

" Because it could be a mistake" Peter summed.

She nodded. And both found themselves mirroring each other's eyes, unable to look away.

"… I would accept you" Peter finally said, interrupting the calm of that moment.

Carol smiled. A sad smile, but genuine at the same time. Almost of relief.

" I know you would. And the others?" she asked in a vaguely ironic tone.

The vigilante approached her. They were only a few millimetres apart.

"I don't care" he whispered on the woman's face, his eyes adorned with a determination.

Carol stroked his chin with his right hand.

"Silly boy," she muttered in a low voice.

And then, she leaned forward, trapping Peter in a hungry kiss.

At first he didn't answer. He couldn't! He forced his brain to understand what just happened, that this time it was she who started it all.

When he came to that awareness, he closed his eyes and held the figure of the woman to him, savouring every second of that contact.

They broke up slowly from each other, annoyed, as if their bodies had not yet understood what their brains already agreed for some time.

He saw in the blonde's eyes the same question that Carol was probably reading in his : "Do you really want to do this?"

_"Yes"_ was the answer that crossed the mind of both.

The woman held her head forward once more, grabbing the teenager's head with one hand and using the other to pull it toward her.

Peter felt something warm wake up inside him. All his senses were stimulated. He smelled her hair, and his lips tasted the slightly salty taste of the skin ... only now they were no longer sitting. They were lying down.

Peter's hands made their way under Carol's shirt, stroking her hips and beginning to rise upwards.

The woman jumped, stopping like a deer caught in headlights.

" Peter, wait ..."

The boy's mouth was on her, as if he wanted to silence her. She relaxed, and for a moment she thought she was simply following the orders given by her body, which was tired due to training, and was willing to let him do it rather than do it herself. And with some shame, it also occurred to her that this served to diminish her guilt a little.

_"I couldn't help it_ ," she heard herself say. " _It was him that did everything"_.

But after what seemed like an interminable time ... even her mouth began to move against the boy's, triggering her tongue between the soft lips.

Then, the woman started to tinker with the closing of the trousers, which fell to the ground. At the same time, Peter pulled up the fabric of her t-shirt, and she raised her arms to ease the task.

The teenager looked up ... and froze. Carol was on top of him, her skin uncovered and wet with sweat, gleaming under the faint ray of sunshine which, passing through the living room window, illuminated the room.

She was beautiful. Like a work of art, it was the discounted comparison that came to his mind.

As if she was reading his mind, the woman smiled. With her hands still in his hair, she kissed him on the forehead, on his eyes, on the tip of his nose.

He moaned as the woman moved her lips behind his ear, his neck. At the same time, he began to unbutton his shirt. He thought of stopping, knowing that what they were doing would be badly seen in the eyes of the team, but he didn't care anymore.

The clothes were gone now. And the linen was gone too.

With his eyes closed, Peter felt Carol take his head in her arms, and something soft against his face. With detached surprise, he understood from the position that it was one of her breasts, and that he had a nipple erect against his lips.

Carol moaned softly and started to rock slightly back and forth. With the tips of her fingers touching his chin and neck.

Peter relaxed, glad he didn't have to do anything, to let her do it all. When she moved his arms, he offered no resistance, leaving them where she wanted them.

He did nothing, and when he reacted, due to the excitement of the moment, it was only because he could no longer restrain himself.

He entered in her, and began to move slowly.

It was the most beautiful feeling he had ever experienced. He felt himself slipping, as if his fingers had left the edge of a precipice made of hard reality, in order to fall ... fall ... through soft clouds of pure bliss, to the ocean of pleasure, with long waves.

She clutched his head in her hands, following his every movement with her hips.

"Oh God, Peter," she sighed between the groans, as her body started to glow with a faint golden light.

" Carol ..." Peter whispered, putting his fingers in her hair and pushing her head backwards, to reveal the neck.

The woman seemed tireless, and he didn't want her to stop. Apart from the intensity of the sexual act, he still felt the same sensation as before: the complete happiness of a totally passive child.

Then, Carol tensed, moaning and slipping to the corner of the sofa, contracting against him.

Peter tried to hold out a little longer, but his screams were joined by hers as they both reached orgasm.

The woman fell on him, grabbing him by the waist and hugging him.

Peter couldn't react, but in the end he wanted nothing more than to stay with his head resting in the hollow of her shoulder, with his arm lying on her chest, letting her caress his hair.

They both smiled, looking into each other's eyes one last time, unable to believe what just happened.

Just a minute later, they both sank into sleep.


	3. The Monster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a new chapter!  
> This story has now an official corrector and his name is 1Storywriter1. I really recommend his CarolxPeter fan fictions, they're amazing!

Once upon a time, but not so long ago, there was a monster in human skin that lived in New York.  
He killed a maid named Alma Stroode when he was just eleven years old, his mother just two days later, dropping her from the stairs, and a schoolmate named Dandy Mott in the fall of 2005; the director of an orphanage named Laurie Curtis in the summer of 2010, and finally a high school student named Manuela Calderon, in 2012. Maybe even his father, but it was never confirmed by the media.

It wasn't a conventional monster. Certainly he was not a vampire or a Ghoul, or some unmentionable creature directly evoked by the innermost meanders of hell, perhaps by a sort of satanic cult.  
He was simply a boy with thick red hair named Cletus Kasady, and he had mental and sexual disorders that haunted him from an early age.  
After being captured, he was given a total of five life sentences and the death penalty, before he was interned in Ryker's Island prison.  
There was a stir, of course, but above all it was a party all over the city, because the monster that had tormented so many dreams had finally been taken, and could no longer hurt a soul.

The nightmares of the New York population had been set aside, apparently forever.  
However, despite the time elapsed since those horrible events, there was always some father or mother, or perhaps some grandfather, who tried to put the children in line by telling them that if they hadn't been good, Cletus Kasady would have come to get them in sleep.  
A rather effective tactic, since that the aforementioned little children were instantly silent, looking out of the dark windows and thinking of the red-haired serial killer, Cletus Kasady, the monster of New York.  
"It's out there. And if you're not good, you'll see his face at your bedroom window when everyone else in the house is already asleep. You will see his smiling face looking at you from inside the closet in the middle of the night, the knife he used to kill his victims ... so be quiet, children ... be quiet".  
But in general, the legend of Cletus Kasady was mostly set aside, the mere memory of a distant and terrible past.

After the invasion of New York ... after Ultron and Thanos ... a crazy maniac who killed people for fun was no longer considered a noteworthy piece of news.  
There were still nightmares, yes, children who could not sleep at night and the Kasady house was immediately judged haunted and prudently avoided.  
But those were passing phenomena, perhaps inevitable corollaries of a chain of senseless crimes.  
And time passed. Fifteen years. The monster was gone, the monster was interned, unable to harm. Cletus Kasady became dust in the annals of the city that never sleeps.  
Except that monsters can't be locked up forever. And Cletus Kasady returned to terrorize New York in the spring of 2025.

The state penitentiary in which it was currently located was no better or worse, nor architecturally more attractive or depressing than any other maximum-security prison in the state of New York. This meant that, for the yardstick of those who lived in squalid institutions like that, it was as dismal as sin.  
Who resided there, who was condemned to stay there for a short or long time, tended to be as hard and ruthless as the land on which it was built.  
Few small fish dared to raise their hands or their voices in the midst of that snarling population, whose authoritative members preferred to smash heads, rather than to reason with them. In other words, it could be said that in Ryker's Island there were more broken heads than crazy heads.

Cletus Kasady, who now sat on a cot in a corner of that hell on earth, looked at the opposite wall.  
The sight of the stained plaster and cement was nothing exceptional, but always better than staring at one of the three men standing around. Two wore uniforms, the third did not.  
No, he corrected himself. It's not entirely true. In reality, all three wore one. But it was depressing to watch them, because two of them were standing at the sides of the solid iron bars that confined him in his cage, while the third could come out of it whenever he wanted.  
The company preferred to call that ever more temporary home its cell. He thought otherwise, but it was always a feminine noun.  
Two of the three free individuals were jailers. Armed with metal handcuffs in their hands, they cautiously observed what was happening on the other side of the bars.  
Their posture and their expressions reflected the concern of hard men, perfectly aware of the fact that any momentary relaxation in performing their daily duty could have resulted in pain, injury or death.  
They didn't get their current place on Ryker's Island because there were no more places as neurosurgeons or for aerospace faculties. Not that they were ignorant: just that in their work, muscles and physical agility were useful for survival more than mental abilities, which were usually not particularly important.  
However, their cranial capacity was on average higher than that of those who had to hold off. Beyond a few exceptions.

The triumvirate was completed by a man who was just inside the cell.  
His words described him, even though having dealt with many current and previous prison guests had made him harder.  
Over the years, the traditional recitation of biblical verses became for him a monotonous lullaby, touched more by a bastard and dying hope than by a true expectation.  
Although the optimism of that priest had not been completely crushed by the brutality that human beings were able to discharge on him, his spirit had been repeatedly crushed and punched by a demoralizing amount of hard realism, and now he no longer had no connection with what was expected of those who dedicate their lives to the church. In short, his faith was massacred.

" Yes" intoned mechanically. " If I had to walk in a dark valley, I would not fear any evil ..."

Stupid, Cletus thought. Stupid and useless. Should I be afraid of myself?  
Why? Was he not the embodied evil? Was not what that asshole of a judge told him, acclaimed by a slimy and quivering audience? If that was their verdict on him, it had to be true.  
He had long lost the desire to oppose the society's judgment. He had this in common with the concrete wall he was staring at. They were both sympathetic and impenetrable. But their similarities stopped there.

" ... because you are with me" continued the priest, without momentum.

Why can't he just shut up? Why did he, or anyone else, always have to spend a minute too long in the depths of that gray pond of humanity?

" Your stick and your staff give me security"

Here is a step that he knew well.  
Give me a stick, he thought ironically, and then you better get out of the way. Give me a chance...

**Step!**  
If the polished floors and solid corridors had an advantage, it was their excellent acoustics.  
This could be unpleasant, when someone started screaming incessantly, an activity not so unusual in Ryker's Island. But the building could also amplify the sound of footsteps, and it was just such a noise that made Cletus cast a quick glance towards the outside. Just in time, he thought.  
A silver blur quickly approached the two guards. These didn't even have time to understand the situation, before a blade was stuck in their throats.  
Blood began to flow copiously, as the priest leaped from his seat in surprise.

A moment later, four figures dressed with military equipment, armed to the teeth, took their places in front of Cletus's cell.  
One of them, slimmer than the others and visibly feminine, gave a quick glance inside the cage.  
She pulled a Caliber 25 pistol from her trouser belt and shot the priest straight to the heart.  
The man was thrown against the wall and fell to the ground, like a marionette whose threads had just been cut. All under the impassive gaze of Cletus.  
Then, the mysterious figure placed something gray and rectangular on the door lock.  
Seconds later, the metal bars came out of the wall ...

* * *

**XXXX**

* * *

Carol felt everything with extreme clarity, as if to compensate for the months spent in total insensitivity: the warmth of Peter's body, his head resting on her shoulder, him slowly stroking her back and the pressure between her legs that forced her to sleep a little crooked.  
The scent of his hair, sweet, and the most bitter scent of sweat and sex. The barely hissing breath, accompanied by the sounds of the city.  
When she woke up, the woman reached out a hand, but not a shadow of Peter. Only a slight imprint remained on the sofa pillows.

The light that penetrated from the outside was warmer, more intense. And the alarm signaled 7:00 am.

She sat on the sofa and rubbed her eyelids. It looked like something was pulling her eyes from inside. Her temples and neck throbbed.  
God, it had really been a long time since she'd last had sex, and even more since she'd done it with someone who could support her advanced biology without getting tired.  
She let her eyes glide around the room, until they landed on the bathrobe she kept hanging near the bathroom door.  
She got up from the couch, put it on, and then crawled into the kitchen.  
Peter was there, fully dressed, his face clean and his hair slightly unkempt, with a cup of coffee in his hand. He must have just got up too.

" Good Morning" he told her, turning with a beaming smile. " Are you hungry?"

Before Carol could answer, the boy went to the only stove in the room, where there was a tower of pancakes waiting.

"I took the liberty of looting your fridge. I made pancakes! I hope you like them".

Carol was hungry, in fact. And what she wanted to do was tell him: "let's go eat something out". Then they would go back to having sex until they fell asleep. And the same the next day. And the day after that.  
But deep down she knew it wouldn't be very practical, so she just smiled back.  
" I love them" she replied after a moment of silence, referring to the pancakes.

If possible, the smile on Peter's face seemed to get bigger.  
With superb craftsmanship, probably due to his spider skills, he landed a couple of plates on the surface of the table in the kitchen, never taking his eyes off the tower of pancakes in front of him. At the same time, he poured a bottle of syrup on the pancakes and, after having divided them in half, he placed them on both plates with a leap.  
Then, he squatted with his feet on one of the chairs ... and waited.

With a twirl of his eyes, Carol picked up a fork, cut a piece of pancake and brought it to her mouth.

" So, how are they?" Peter asked, while the woman chewed her breakfast tastefully.

She swallowed the pancake in a few seconds and gave the boy a slightly impressed smile.  
"Not bad. Superhero and even an expert cook! You'll break many hearts" she said with a mischievous wink.

The vigilante instinctively blushed and began to scratch his head in embarrassment.  
Then he took out a second cup from the kitchen cupboard.  
" Do you want sugar in your coffee?"

" I take it black" the woman replied, internally satisfied by the care that the teenager was showing towards her. It was a sign of great maturity and judgment, two qualities she had always appreciated.

Peter handed her the cup, sat down in front of her and began to eat.  
After a while he realized that Carol was watching him, her lips still curled in a warm smile.

" W-what ?" he stammered uncertainly. He mentally slapped his forehead.  
God, how could he be so nervous in front of her, even after what they did the night before?

Carol chuckled, seemingly amused by the boy's question.  
" It's nothing" she replied, shrugging her shoulders. "It's just that ... well, even if you're very young ... I have to admit that I haven't felt so good in a long time," she whispered almost to herself.

The blush on Peter's face became even more pronounced.  
As if to hide his embarrassment, the wall-climber began to drink his coffee in a hurry, while the woman merely sipped her own coffee with professional calm.  
They remained in a comfortable silence for the next five minutes.  
After that time, Peter raised his head in Carol's direction. Feeling the teenager's eyes on her, the superheroine patiently met his gaze.

" I don't mean to appear too inquisitive…" Peter began, in an apparently casual tone. " But I'm dying to know. Exactly ... how old are you?"

The question seemed to take the blonde on the break. He dilated his pupils, visibly surprised, and this led the vigilante to blush even more.

" Sorry, I know you should never ask a woman her age, but I was curious and ..."  
" Sixty" she replied, interrupting the adolescent's ramblings.

He choked on his own saliva, staring at the half-kree as if a second head had suddenly sprung up.  
" E-eh? "  
" I was born on July 25th 1965" Carol continued, taking another sip of coffee from her cup.

Peter opened and closed his mouth a couple of times. He seemed completely unable to find the right words to comment on such a statement.  
" You look... ehm ... great! For your age, I mean" he said after almost a minute of complete silence.

Carol remained still and motionless, staring at him with such intensity that, for a moment, the vigilante thought he had signed his death sentence.  
Then, much to his surprise ... the woman burst out laughing. That same musical laugh he had heard so few times, and only when they were in the company of the other. A laugh that seemed reserved only for him.

"You're making fun of me, aren't you?" Peter muttered, crossing both arms in front of his chest and staring at her with a pout.

Carol continued to laugh a little more, before wiping away the tears that risked leaking out of her eyes.  
After this, she gave to the vigilante another of her smiles.  
" No, not really. I'm really sixty years old! Well, from the terrestrial point of view, at least. However, my kree biology allows me to age much more slowly than any other human being. Biologically speaking, I should be twenty-six years old" she explained with a de facto tone, while Peter listened to it all with a surprised expression.  
This certainly didn't go unnoticed by the blonde.

" What?" she asked in the same uncertain tone that Peter had used only a few minutes before.  
In response, the teenager sent her a warm and gentle smile.  
" No, it's just that ... you're incredible. I really mean that " he whispered with conviction, as if he was affirming a universal truth.

This time, it was Carol who blushed intensely.  
" Thank you" she replied after a few moments of silence, bringing her cup to her lips to hide her embarrassment. Of course, it wasn't the first time she received such compliments, but the way Peter did it seemed so ... genuine ... true ... sincere, like never before.

" And now?" the vigilante asked suddenly, attracting the woman's attention.  
" Now what?" she asked, her face adorned with a confused expression. Peter moved uncertainly in his chair.

" All this ... where will it bring us?"  
"Ah ... that," Carol thought, understanding where he wanted to go.

She was well aware that, sooner or later, they would have had to face 'the elephant in the room', but in her heart she hoped that this would happen with a minimum of warning, and not during breakfast.

The woman remained silent for what seemed an interminable time, before taking a deep breath.  
"I'm not so blind as to think that such a thing could work openly," she said, arousing a nod from Peter.

" Me too " the vigilante agreed, surprising her a lot.  
She expected a minimum of protest, perhaps some idealistic discourse based on tolerance and the right of every person to love ... instead he accepted the words of Carol without even breaking down. Yes, he was definitely a lot more mature than she had initially given him credit, but in the end she should have expected. After all, he was probably the smartest member of the Avengers, and compared to most of his peers ... well, he had faced experiences that were usually reserved for war veterans.

"So ..." she began uncertainly.

"So ..." he echoed, smiling slyly.

Despite her best judgment, Carol found herself doing the same.  
" God, it's such a strange situation" she muttered almost to herself. " I have a crush on a boy of eighteen. You don't even have the age to drink legally"

" Last night didn't seem to worry you too much" Peter replied, receiving in return a glare from the woman. " Okay, it was a pretty stupid exit"

" Just a little" she said, curling both her lips in an amused sneer.

Peter let out a loud snort, peering cautiously at her.  
He met and avoided her gaze a couple of times, almost as if he wanted to ask her something but could not find the right words to express himself.

" Out of curiosity ... have I been good?" he asked suddenly.  
Carol raised an eyebrow and the vigilante blushed intensely.  
" You know ... the thing last night ..."

" Are you asking me if I had a good sex?" she replied, crossing her arms in front of her chest and staring at him with a teasing smile.

The teenager's face turned crimson.  
" Y-you don't have to answer, l-like I said I-I was just curious" he stammered, trying in every way to avoid the eyes of the blonde.

Faced with such a vision, Carol decided to have mercy on him.  
" Yes, you were ... really good, actually" she said with a shrug, receiving a surprised look by the wall-climber.

At that precise moment, a mischievous idea began to make its way into the woman's mind.  
She jumped up from her chair, making the vigilante jump. Then, she began to slide the index finger on the surface of the table, as she walked slowly and markedly towards the figure of the boy.  
" In fact, if I have to be honest ... you really surprised me" she whispered sensually, and then sat on Peter's lap.

He swallowed a second time, while Carol smiled victoriously and began to stroke his cheek.  
"Is there something you're not telling me, spider boy? Some ex-girlfriends that not even S.H.I.E.L.D. knows about?"

Peter felt his body go on fire, shivering under the delicate touches of the blonde.  
This game can be done in two, he thought irritably, aware that she was trying to tease him.

"Well, there would be Karen ..." he replied evasively, surprising Carol.

" Karen?" she asked, wrinkling her face in a discontented frown.

Peter sent her an impish sneer.  
" The artificial intelligence of my suit" he explained, with a shrug. " It was a short-term relationship, however. In the end we both agreed that it couldn't last."

Carol remained silent, while her frowning expression was slowly replaced by an impassive gaze.  
Peter began to sweat, noting that the woman's grip had become much stronger.  
He closed his eyes, preparing to receive some form of physical repercussion, perhaps a punch in the head.  
Instead, Carol began to laugh once more. Not a laugh at his own expense, like the previous one, but one of genuine enjoyment, a series of musical chimes that rang throughout the room like drops of water in contact with a glass plate.

The terror was soon replaced by pure joy.

"I like your laugh," he said with a placid smile, as the woman stared at him with her head tilted slightly to one side.

" Really?" she asked with a mischievous tone, leaning forward.

" Yes" the vigilante replied, while the superheroine continued to shorten the distance that separated them.

" Really?" she whispered again. And this time, when Peter started to answer, the woman put her lips on his.

It was not a gesture derived from lust, nor from an attempt at comfort, but a manifestation of pure and simple affection. A sharing of thoughts and feelings that only the two of them could fully understand.

After almost a minute, Carol broke away to allow him to catch his breath and went back to caressing the teenager's face.

" Do you think this could last?" she asked with a sad smile.

Peter dilated his pupils, caught off guard by the woman's question.  
He remained silent for a while, searching for the right words to respond to such a dilemma. After all, it was a question that had also crossed his mind during the last few days.

" I think so" he answered almost immediately.

Noticing the woman's startled expression, the vigilante took a deep breath.  
" Carol, maybe there are things that play against us, and sometimes we'll make some messes, but ... well, these things happen to all couples " he said with a shrug. " The difference is that I will try, with all my forces ... to make this thing work".

He placed both hands on the half-kree's shoulders, staring intently at her.  
"I want to be the man that sometimes you've seen in me. And please don't deny it, I know you did" he continued quickly, noting that the blonde was about to open her mouth.

" Okay, I'm in leap years ... but I want to be that man! Even just for you" he whispered, trying to pour in those words all the affection he felt for that woman.

She listened to every word raptly, unaware that her heart had begun to beat much faster than usual. Meanwhile, Peter took another deep breath.

" Because the truth is that ... that I like you. Really, I like you a lot " he resumed, gently placing a hand on Carol's cheek.

" And for this I will find a way. Believe me, I will succeed. You ... you just have to give me a chance" he finished, giving the woman a look full of determination.

She remained still and motionless, scanning the teenager from head to toe, trying to find the slightest trace of deception or lie.  
Did he really ... do it? Was a boy in his puberty seriously asking her to start a relationship? If it had been any other person, Carol would probably have dismissed the matter as a simple teenage fantasy.  
But the person she was talking to ... wasn't just a teenager. He was someone who lost a paternal figure three times, who was forced to fight a war for the salvation of those he cared about, who died for that goal, and who came back to life just to fight once again, without ever giving up.  
He was one of the bravest, kindest and loyal people she had ever met. And she would trust him with her life.

" No one will have to know" she said after a moment of silence.

" Absolutely" Peter replied, nodding quickly.

" Especially the rest of the team" the woman continued, pointing at him threateningly.

The vigilante swallowed a third time.  
"Got it, a hundred and ten percent," he said nervously.

Carol smiled with satisfaction, before grabbing his chin gently.  
" Come here" she whispered, kissing him gently on the lips.

Peter, initially surprised, closed his eyes and responded to the kiss, wrapping his arms around her back and hugging her.

They remained like this for the next ten minutes, as if they could no longer do anything else, until a loud **beep**! , coming from Peter's pockets, caught the attention of both.  
Carol groaned in annoyance as the boy proceeded to take out his cell phone and read the message he had just received.

When he finished, his face turned pale.  
" Oh God ... "  
" What?" the woman asked, visibly worried.

Peter released a resigned sigh.  
" I didn't tell my aunt that I spent the night out" he muttered in a low voice.

Carol initially seemed dismayed by the news, before curling her lips in an amused sneer.  
" Well ... It seems that this relationship has already caused you trouble, spider-boy"  
" Ugh".

* * *

**XXXX**

* * *

The salon was lit by white spotlights and neon lights, those that were usually placed at random, next to a chair or in a corner.  
The only decoration hanging on the walls was a framed drawing: a portrait of New York. The owner of the complex bought it directly from the artist on a hot afternoon, and considered it superior to the final version.

The five criminals observed everything curiously, each of them tied to a wheelbarrow.  
They were all taken from Ryker's Island, drugged and transported to that place in the fraction of just an hour. Whoever was the person who got them out of prison ... he sure knew what he was doing.

There were Cletus Kasady, the robber couple Phineas Mason and Herman Schultz (better known to the general public as Tinkerer and Shocker), the arms dealer Mac Gargan, and Adrian Toomes, a supervillain known to the media as Volture, captured by Spiderman himself in the now-distant 2017.

" Where the hell are we?" Phineas asked, to the right of Cletus.

The Serial Killer shrugged  
" Well, at least we are no longer at Ryker's Island" he commented, before closing his face in a manic smile. " The situation has already improved!"

At that precise moment, the figure of a man entered the room. At first glance he seemed about forty, but looking at him well he must have been many more years. The eyes had the faded shine of the sea glass: they were mysteriously old eyes. His face was long and tormented, framed by thick red hair, with white and immaculate teeth. It was the kind of face that someone could have called "weasel", Cletus imagined, but in profile it wouldn't have been bad on a coin.

He was followed by a beautiful woman with thick silver hair and a pale complexion, dressed in a bodyguard uniform.

" Welcome" the man greeted, with a gentle and calm tone of voice.  
" My name is Norman Osborn, and this is my assistant, Sable" he said pointing to his companion.

As a signal, the group of detainees burst into a long series of murmurs, before being interrupted by a quick gesture of their mysterious captor.

"I understand very well that you feel ... confused ... frightened ... maybe a little dazed, but please rest assured, because today ... is the beginning of a bright future for all of you. If you want it" he ended, with an easygoing expression.

Toomes raised an eyebrow.  
" Who are you?" he asked, visibly intrigued.

The renowned Norman Osborn took a deep breath.  
" Well, more than anything else the question is another: who are you?" he retorted, passing his head from side to side of the room.  
" The outside world ... sees in you some crazy criminals. Not me. I see genius ... I see charisma ... and potential. I see a lot of potential" he said in a smooth voice, briefly weighing his eyes on each member of the clique.

On hearing these words, Cletus could not help but nod in agreement.  
"Yes ...exactly, my friend. Man, such a disturbing speech seems made for me. As far as these others, I don't know ... but we speak the same language"

" Quiet, Kasady" Toomes hissed, and then motioned for the man to go on. " Please, continue" he said pleasantly.

Norman smiled, spreading his arms like a presenter.  
" To put it bluntly ... I want to offer you a job" he said after a moment of silence, surprising the gang of criminals. " Imagine that a group of genius outlaws like you ... is chosen to participate in an experiment that will make you better. Stronger than you could have ever imagined in your wildest dreams. Imagine ... that it is chosen for the unique abilities that each of you possesses ... and that you work in a team. Imagine ... this synergy. Imagine the consequences " he continued, before curling both lips in a charismatic smile.  
" The world would kneel at your feet" he ended, dropping a grave silence in the depths of the room. Toomes coughed a couple of times, attracting the attention of those present.

" Well, all this sounds fantastic ... Norman. This is your name, isn't it? Norman. You look like a person with a big plan and all, but ... about this magic team? I think I'll pass. See, I've never been very compliant to follow orders. Good luck, however, is an intriguing concept" he chuckled, arousing a visibly tense expression from Sable.

Norman, on the other hand, looked completely relaxed.  
" This is very ... disappointing" he commented, squeezing both eyelids.

Unaware of the danger he was running, the supervillain raised an eyebrow.  
" Oh, it seems right. You want a reward for letting us all escape. I admit, I'm grateful. What do you think about 500 000 dollars? Sounds good, eh? I can let you have them today ... as soon as I am free"

" Money is not a problem. I had high expectations about you. I didn't foresee your pride, and that always ruins everything" Osborn muttered, approaching the the man. " Here there is no place for you"

And, having said that, he undid the straps of the wheelbarrow, allowing Toomes to move freely.

The elder began to stretch his limbs before turning in the direction of Phineas and Schultz. " No one else wants to come with me?"

"Or, I don't think any of them want to go where you're going" Norman replied, his tone dangerously low.

The man didn't even have time to ask why.

It all happened in the fraction of just a second. Sable pulled a pistol from under her jacket and fired a shot, piercing the victim's head from side to side.  
Toomes fell heavily along the floorboards, under the shocked gaze of those present. Cletus, at the same time, burst into laughter as Norman turned to the group with a sly smile.

" Does anyone else want to leave?"


	4. Prometheus

Contrary to what most of the world thinks, two-thirds of the state of New York did not consist of skyscrapers, crowded subways and ruthless shopping malls.

While James Rhodes, alias War Machine, walked quietly for the Avengers base, he could very well have mentally reconstructed the map of the entire region: extended from Pennsylvania to Vermont, it consisted of about two hundred and fifty hectares of lush public and private land, dotted with rushing rivers, thousands of ponds and forty-six kilometres of forest, which ran along the coast. In a nutshell, a perfect place to build an isolated complex out of the reach of prying eyes.

Rhodey knew all this, being endowed with that kind of crystalline intelligence that automatically grabs, stores and uses significant data, typical of the military.

The base had several meeting rooms.  
After the reconstruction, Rhodey had chosen a medium-sized meeting space, almost too small for a group of superheroes, but he knew from experience that people sitting nearby either took to their hair or developed a strong spirit of collaboration.  
In no case, however, they had the opportunity to keep their distance or to talk about other topics. Furthermore, it was the only room to have a holographic projector that didn't require Tony's intervention to function properly. A real rip-off, in a nutshell.

Entering the hall, the man quickly counted those present, all gathered around an oval-shaped table.  
There were Carol Danvers, Scott and Hope Lang, Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Bruce Banner, the young Peter Parker and even T'Challa, whose sovereign duties often kept him away from the team. The same could be said about Dr. Stephen Strange who, as a Supreme Sorcerer, was often busy dealing with the mystical threats that raged in the world.  
Wanda Maximoff, on the other hand, left the team a little less than a year ago, eager to find her own way. A decision that Rhodey accepted without question, considering what she went through during the war against Thanos.

The man briefly weighed his eyes on each team member, before taking a deep breath.  
"Welcome to the twenty-fifth official meeting of the Avengers " he began in a calm and authoritative voice, calling attention to himself.

When he was sure everyone was listening, he coughed and opened an envelope he held in his hands.

"Here's the announcements of the day. Seventeen hours ago, five criminals were illegally taken from the maximum security prison built on Ryker's Island, New York. At the moment the police have no clue about the person or persons behind the evasion, but I urge you to keep your eyes open in case you are in the city. Especially you, Spiderman"

"Me?" Peter asked, visibly surprised.

Rhodey nodded in confirmation.  
"Apparently, three of the fugitives are your old acquaintances" he said with his eyes turned towards the screen, while the profiles of the various criminals materialized in the white background.

Peter instantly recognized the features of Phineas Mason, Herman Schultz and Adrian Toomes. After all, he could never forget the first supervillains he had fought (and almost managed to kill him).  
He didn't recognize the other two though. Or rather, the one with the scar, of Hispanic nationality, looked vaguely familiar. While the last one, the one with red hair ... no, he had definitely never seen him.

He groaned, falling to the back of the chair.  
"And I was hoping that the suspension was the worst thing that could have happened to me this year"

"You've been suspended?!" Carol exclaimed suddenly, making the majority of those present jump. T'Challa and Bucky were the only ones to maintain a stoic expression, while Peter swallowed loudly.

"Oops?" he said with a nervous laugh.

Unimpressed, the woman squeezed both eyelids.  
"How did it happen?" she asked imperiously.

Peter sank further into the chair, grateful that the mask could hide his blush.  
"See, it's a funny story ..."

"But unfortunately we don't have the time to hear it" Rhodey interrupted him, to his great relief "Especially because of him"

The image on the screen suddenly changed, revealing a picture of a tall, athletic blond man, apparently in his forties, with a small scar running down his jaw.

"Meet Roger Brokeridge, one of the last leaders of Hydra still in circulation" the Colonel explained. "Whose base was finally discovered by a reconnaissance drone about three days ago, in Louisiana"

The screen changed again. This time, the photo depicted a house hidden among the trees, perhaps a villa, of which only the white of the front facade and some windows were visible.  
Along the perimeter of what appeared to be a forest, although it might well have been the garden, the figures of several armed men stood out.  
One of them flanked Brokeridge's fuzzy figure as he was about to get off a Wrangler Jeep.

"So cliché " Scott commented, thinking back to how many villains in movies used to choose Louisiana to build their secret bases.  
Not that it was an illogical decision. After all, the terrain of that state was rather bumpy, difficult to navigate, and therefore not suitable for firing conflicts. It was immersed in nothingness, surrounded by trees, forests and swamps, so it was easy to use as a hiding place. Moreover, the locals were rather reserved and never asked questions.

"Listen to me all! " Rhodey exclaimed, drawing the group's attention to himself once more."You know well with whom we are dealing. Hydra is certainly not dangerous or equipped as it used to be, but it can still boast of numerous soldiers. Our task is to infiltrate the base, capture Brokeridge, bring him here and interrogate him, so that we can reveal the position of the last remaining cells"

"I doubt he'll speak" Bucky commented, his face adorned by an unhappy frown. "The Hydra members are certainly not known for being talkers"

"Then we'll try to offer him a plea bargaining" Rhodey replied, receiving a snort from the soldier.

The Avenger decided not to reproach the obvious lack of respect. After all, he knew well the story that the man had with Hydra, and he could sympathize with his obvious hatred for the organization.  
They almost killed him, tortured him, experimented on him and brainwashed him, forcing him to become a murderer. In his place, he probably would have felt the same way.

"This is how we'll launch our attack," he resumed, turning his gaze towards the group, "a first unit will go on the site under the command of Carol. When I call you, stand up: Bruce, T'Challa and Hope"

As ordered, the various members whose name were called stood up abruptly.

Rhodey nodded in satisfaction.  
"The second assault unit will be composed by me and Sam. To infiltrate the base instead, will be Bucky, Scott ..."  
 **"** Ahem ..."  
 **"** and ..."  
 **"** Ahem ... "

The man released a defeated sigh.  
 **"** Spiderman "

**"** Yes!" the boy exclaimed, lifting both arms towards the ceiling.

Sam watched the scene with a frown.  
"Do you think he's ready for such a mission?" he asked in a skeptical voice.

Rhodey didn't hesitate to reply.  
"Spiderman has repeatedly proved to be a fundamental member of this team, and I think it's finally time to put him to fight with the big fish"

"I won't let you down, sir!" the aforementioned vigilante said, engaging in a military salute.

The gesture made almost everyone present smile, including Bucky.  
Carol was the only one to maintain an impassive look, but in the end the group was used to the stoicism of woman. This was also the reason why nobody noticed the vaguely worried look she launched in Peter's direction.

Rhodey turned the lights back on, turning off the projector.  
"We find ourselves on the flight deck in fifteen minutes" he said after a moment of silence. Then, he left the room and the rest of the Avengers followed him immediately.

* * *

**XXXX**

* * *

Pepper Potts walked softly through the corridors of the base, trying to ignore the huge statue of Tony Stark that stood outside the complex, right in the middle of the garden.  
She didn't like to visit that building, always ending up reminding her of her dead husband.

There were times when she was able to go on, to fly over those treacherous thoughts as if they were nothing but little, laughing children looking for attention.  
And then, at other times, she had so much longing for him that she felt empty, no longer a woman but a dead tree, full of cold November breath.  
That was how she felt at that moment.

She wanted to scream his name and scream at him to return home, and her heart suffered at the thought of the years ahead before she could meet him again.  
She wondered if love really was a good thing... if the final result was that. Even just ten seconds of a sensation like this seemed too much.

However, Pepper Potts was certainly not known for being a woman who would fail in her duties. That is why, as the official financier of the Avengers program, she had come in person to discuss with James Rhodes (or Rhodey, as everyone called him amicably) the monthly budget that directly affected the team.

"Damn!"

The sudden scream turned her away from those thoughts.

She looked up from the bureaucratic files she held in her hands, finding herself in front of a rather unusual scene.  
A few meters from her there was Carol Danvers, dressed in her Captain Marvel uniform, her hands resting on a vending machine and her face adorned with a discontented frown.

Pepper allowed herself a few moments to look at everything. After all, there weren't many cases in which Carol displayed her emotions in this way, usually she always had that impassive expression she now recognized in all those who had served in the army.

Not that Carol had done it for a long time, as she revealed to her during one of their chats. Following Tony's death and her entry into the Avengers, the woman came to her to ask for permission to stay in the Stark Tower whenever she remained on Earth for an extended period of time.  
Pepper consented without thinking twice. It was thus that their meetings became more and more frequent and, after about a year from the last great battle against Thanos, the two ended up becoming good friends.

It was thanks to this new relationship that Pepper learned about many of the facts surrounding the mysterious Captain Marvel, who, in a relatively short time, had become one of the most famous and popular heroes on Earth.  
She learned about her career in the army, her kidnapping by the Kree, her return to Earth, the awakening of her powers ... and, of course, that she was practically her mother's age, even though Pepper often had an hard time to believe that.

"Are you all right, Carol?" she asked in a puzzled tone, approaching the blonde.

Apparently surprised by her arrival, the Avenger jerked upright.  
"Hi, Pepper," she said after a moment of silence, her cheeks slightly flushed with embarrassment.

Mentally, Tony Stark's ex-wife realized that this was perhaps the first time she saw her in such a state.

With a heartbroken sigh, Carol glanced a dead look at the vending machine.  
"Not really, this thing stole my money," she growled through clenched teeth, punching the surface of the machine.

Despite her best judgment, Pepper found herself chuckling.  
"Yes, it does it often. I remember that I always asked Tony to change it, but he replied that by now it was part of the building" she admitted with a nostalgic tone.  
Then, she approached the distributor's side and hit it with a powerful kick, just below the built-in fan.

"The secret is to hit it in this point" she explained, while a can of energy juice fell from the opening of the machine.

Carol stared at her with her mouth slightly open, apparently impressed by the whole demonstration.  
"Thanks" she said with an embarrassed voice, grabbing the can and bringing it to her lips.

Pepper squeezed both eyelids.  
Ok, something was definitely out of place. She had never seen Carol in such a ... vulnerable state? No, it wasn't exactly the right word to describe it. She still looked like a woman who could throw someone into the sun at the slightest provocation. However, she seemed more... docile. Yes, docile was the perfect way to indicate her current behaviour.  
She seemed more carefree, less tense ... like a high school girl just returned from a first date.

"Wait a second," Pepper whispered mentally, as she began to scan the woman from head to toe. "Cheeks perpetually flushed... uncontrolled mood... and she's keeping her legs in a strange position... Oh my ..."

A foxy smile began to make its way onto the face of the woman.

She leaned against the dispenser with her arms crossed in front of her chest, turning a side glance to the superheroine.  
"So... did you have a good night, Carol?" she asked in an apparently casual tone.

The question seemed to take the blonde off guard.  
"Um... yes, of course. Why do you ask me that?"

"No particular reason" Pepper replied, merely shrugging her shoulders.

Carol started staring at her with suspicion but, when the woman made no sign of wanting to argue, she started drinking again.

"And tell me... did you spend it with someone?" the redhead asked.

Needless to say, her friend's reaction was almost instantaneous.  
Carol hardly choked on what she had swallowed, and began to cough loudly. All under Pepper's amused gaze.

"It seems so" she commented, smiling amused.

The Avenger took a couple of soothing breaths and stared at the woman with an impassive expression.  
"I... I don't know what you're talking about."

"Really? So... didn't you recently have sex with someone?" she asked pointing to the upper part of her thighs.

The blush on the blonde's face became more pronounced.

"Pepper" she hissed through clenched teeth, while her friend's smile seemed to widen.

"Oh come on, I'm not judging you. Indeed, I think it could do you good, if you understand what I mean."  
"Pepper!"  
"There is nothing to be ashamed of. You are a woman at the height of sexual maturity" the redhead continued, shrugging her shoulders a second time. "Having relationships with other people is perfectly normal"

Carol looked around frantically. She seemed genuinely worried that anyone could hear them, which Pepper couldn't help but find adorable.  
Here it is, Carol Danvers, the incredible Captain Marvel... worried that people might learn about her secret relationship. It made her look so... human. Far from the stoic character that the rest of the Avengers were used to.

"So?" she asked in a conspiratorial tone.

Carol briefly passed her head from side to side of the corridor. When she was sure there were no other people, she released a resigned sigh.

"Okay, I'll tell you," she muttered bitterly.

Pepper signaled her to continue. At the same time, the blonde took a deep breath.

"I have... a relationship"  
"I knew it!" the redhead exclaimed, being promptly silenced by a resounding 'shhhhhh!' of her friend.

Pepper gave her an apologetic smile before leaning forward.

"What's his name?"  
"… Ben" Carol answered, after a moment of hesitation.

The redhead raised an eyebrow.

"No surname?"  
"… Reilly"  
"I see... And tell me, is this Ben Reilly... gifted?"  
"Pepper!" the Avenger exclaimed, blushing even more intensely.

Pepper simulated an innocent expression.  
"What? I told you that there is no need to be embarrassed, here we are among women" she said with a de facto tone.

Meanwhile, Carol just wanted any team member to show up in the hallway (possibly at that precise moment) to order her to come to the quinjet right away.  
She couldn't risk someone finding out about the relationship between her and Peter... especially if this someone was the ex-wife of Peter's mentor himself!  
However, she was well aware that Pepper wouldn't let her go without receiving at least some kind of information.

With that thought in mind, she came to a single and simple conclusion: she couldn't tell her the whole truth ... but she could reveal her just enough to avoid misunderstandings.

"It's just that..." she began uncertainly, "it's the first time I've dated with someone younger than me."

In front of her, Pepper's eyes seemed to lighten with understanding.  
" _Of course,"_ the redhead thought. _"She looks like a twenty years old woman, but she is basically sixty years old."_

"You are certainly not the first woman to do it" she said with a reassuring smile. "Do you want my advice?"

Carol mentally applauded herself.  
"Sure" she said after a moment of silence, continuing to play the part of the insecure girlfriend.

Pepper put her hand on her shoulder.  
"Enjoy it. Believe me, you deserve it. You need to have fun, to take a break from the Avengers and all those missions"  
"Do you really think so?" the superheroine asked, shaking at the tip of her heels. God, after this she would have seriously deserved an Oscar.

"One hundred percent" Pepper replied, nodding with determination.

Carol gave her a grateful smile.  
 _"The mission was a success!"_ was the first thought that crossed her head. She had risked a lot, but the situation seemed to be under control again.

"Well, it was an enlightening conversation, but now I have to go to the launch base" she said pleasantly. However, before she could turn the corner, she heard an exclamation that almost made her stumble forward.

"And remember to use protection!"  
 _"Dammit, Pepper ..."_

* * *

**XXXX**

* * *

The room in which Cletus was staying was dirty.

The walls, made of white marble, were dotted with reddish rust. The only source of light was a lamp that shone on his head. From time to time he died, forcing his eyes to adjust to the alternation between light and dark.  
On the opposite wall there were a series of screens, similar to many small televisions.

Next to the wheelbarrow to which he was tied, there was a wheeled table full of operating tools. A little farther on, sitting in front of an unusual jumble of machinery, including a computer, was a man of robust build, not very tall.  
He said his name was Otto Octavius, and he would handle the whole operation.

He had a chubby face, a wide mouth, short black hair and a pair of round glasses that fell on a hooked nose.  
The four long mechanical arms that came out from under the white lab coat - each ending with three claw-like appendages set in a large red lens - were certainly a distinctive feature. They vaguely resembled the tripods off The War of the Worlds.

**"** Are you interested in Greek mythology, Cletus?" Norman asked, attracting the man's attention.

**"** Not really, sir" the serial killer replied, causing a little laugh by the billionaire.

**"** Ever heard of Arachne?"  
 **"** Ehm… no, Mr. Osborn, sorry"

If he was bothered by the lack of cultural knowledge of the criminal, Osborn didn't let it show. Instead, he pursed his lips in an easy-going smile.

**"** According to legend, Athena... you know Athena, right?"  
"Er ... the goddess?"  
"Precisely! See, Athena heard about this woman on Earth, a mere mortal, like you and me, who was a better weaver than her."

"A weaver?" Cletus asked, visibly perplexed.

In response, Norman just nodded.

**"** Athena was not at all happy with this, and went down to Earth to destroy the woman's creations."  
 **"** Typically female" Cletus muttered, with a twirl of the eyes.

Osborn barked a laugh, apparently amused by the criminal's comment.  
Once calmed, he spoke again.

**"** When the girl realized what had happened, that she had offended the gods and that all her works had been destroyed, she hanged herself. Athena took pity on the poor girl, bathed her forehead with a magic liquid and said: You will not die, Arachne, you will instead be transformed and you will weave your web forever" he said it all in a calm and almost nostalgic voice. "At the words of Athena, Arachne grew smaller and became black. First her nose and ears fell off, then her fingers turned into paws. What remained of her became the body and from it began to weave its web".

The man took out of his trouser pocket something that looked like a remote control. Then, he pointed the object at the TVs in the room, and Cletus followed him with his eyes.  
A few seconds later, several images began to scroll across the screens. Pictures depicting a person dressed in anred and blue tight suit, his face covered by a mask, while he rocked among the buildings of New York like the wading of a circus.

"And now it seems that history is repeating itself... but this time it is mortals who are in control" Norman said, his face adorned with a decidedly more maniacal smile.

Cletus, meanwhile, began to scrutinize the images with a critical eye.  
"I've heard about this guy. I always thought his powers were a bit of bullshit, to be honest. Does he really possess the skills of a spider?"

"Yes, as absurd as it may seem. No one really knows how he got them... even though I have my suspicions" the man murmured, almost to himself.

At that moment, one of Octavius's tentacles moved towards him, handing him a glass vial, the inside of which seemed to be occupied by a strange red substance.  
Norman approached Cletus, and the serial killer noted another peculiarity: that liquid, whatever it was, had small appendages stuck on the surface of the container ... and they were moving, like the legs of an insect.

"What is it?" he asked puzzled.

If possible, Osborn's smile seemed to grow larger.

"This, my friend ... is a symbiote. Created directly from the blood collected during a battle between Spiderman and one of his opponents, Electro. An autonomous, sentient organism, modified in part by bioelectrical stimulation caused by the attacks of that supercriminal. A parasite looking for an appropriate host to bind to" he revealed with a patient tone, before turning to the serial killer a meaningful look. "And it is also the reason why you are here, Cletus. See, the blood group of this sample is quite rare, AB Negative. And of all the Ryker's Island inmates ... you were the only one who had it. Therefore, you are the most ideal candidate to tie yourself to it. Your other colleagues have been chosen to participate in a different program, but you ... you are the only one who can deal with this risky procedure."

Upon hearing these words, Cletus's eyes were filled with a glint of surprise and awe.

"What will it do to me?" he asked uncertainly, as the strange substance stirred in the test tube.

Norman shrugged.  
"The same thing it did to Spiderman. It will make you stronger, faster... more powerful than you can ever imagine" he said with conviction, turning his more accommodating expression to the criminal.

Cletus remained silent, trying to absorb the man's words.  
He had never been a fan of science subjects, unless they went to his advantage. Especially when dealing with information concerning anatomy and chemistry. Many things could be learned from such topics, such as finding the best spots to hit a person or animal with a blunt weapon, making hand grenades, and other fascinating tricks that had never been taught at school.  
Despite this, he understood most of Osborn's explanation. Even if, in his heart, he knew that the billionaire had tried to make the speech as simple as possible to adapt it to his situation, something he could appreciate. Perhaps, once he left this place, he wouldn't have bled him to death.

"How will you tie it to me?" he asked curiously.

Norman turned his gaze to Octavius, as if he were asking the same question.

The scientist just shrugged.  
"I could explain it to you, but I seriously doubt that you would succeed in understanding the scientific complexity of such a process."

_"What a son of a bitch"_ Cletus thought, imagining in a short time all those fantastic ways he could use to kill that fatty. Seven of them included a knife or a sharpened piece of glass, two a shoelace, three a lighter, and one a plastic bag.

"Hey, I'm not the sharpest pencil in the room, but I'm not stupid. Come on, give me your best shot!" he exclaimed, with a confident smile.

Octavius released a resigned sigh.  
"To put it in very simple terms, we will use nano-machines"

"Nano-machines? Like those in movies?"  
"No, mine are much better" the man replied, with a discontented frown. Almost as if that comparison had offended him personally. "They have neither circuits nor energy. They simply give specific answers to specific frequencies. They are like reflective leagues. And using different frequencies, they can be controlled as much as a radio-controlled machine with a remote control is controlled. We'll use them to tie your blood to the molecular structure of the symbiote."

Cletus absorbed all information with an impressed look.

"You look very smart. How the hell did you find yourself in a place like this?" he asked with a sneering grin, beckoning to the lab that surrounded them.  
Because if there was one thing Cletus had understood, at the exact moment he had set foot in this horror factory... it was that this operation had nothing legal about it.

Octavius chuckled for the first time since he met him, as if he had heard that question many times already.

"Because of my love for art" he replied, surprising the serial killer.  
"Ah?"

Noting the confused expression on Cletus's face, the man proceeded to elaborate.  
"As a child I loved European architecture. I fell in love with those large-scale "creations" that had been restructured after a long period of time, in order to complete just one idea of beauty. But at the same time, they were difficult to understand. It is easy to look at the external appearance of a building and say that it's beautiful. However, to meticulously understand every little detail of the design, its large scale makes it necessary to place it equally in a larger period of time. To be honest, there are so many things to focus on ... that over time it gets tiring" he admitted disconsolately, as he grabbed with a tentacle the phial that Osborn was still holding in his hands.

"And then I discovered a new form of beauty: scientific formulas" he continued, using one of the other arms to take a needle from the operating table. "With them there is no waste, they are efficient. All types of beauty are included in the smallest possible places. From this point of view, it is precisely the formulas that contain it. They also have a poetic beauty, similar to that of haiku!"

He smiled as he walked up to Cletus and stopped right in front of him.  
"My final goal is to find the hidden beauty in the corners of the world and use it for the benefit of all humanity. I will bow to anyone in order to do so. I don't care if I will be called a criminal" he finished with a firm tone. "Now relax, it will be painful"

"How painful, exactly?" Cletus asked, scrutinizing him with suspicion.

Octavius didn't answer.  
He used the needle to take the symbiote from the vial, brought it close to Kasady and injected it at the level of the forearm.

Apart from the initial puncture, however, the killer heard nothing else.

"Um... it didn't seem so bad..."

The man didn't have the possibility to finish the sentence.  
A sharp and sudden pain gripped his head, muscles and the rest of his body. He tried to scream, but found himself unable to do so.  
Then came the darkness ... and with it the nothing.

* * *

**XXXX**

* * *

Cletus Kasady slept... and dreamed. The borderline between dream and memory was often subtle, but he was not aware of it.  
So his mind wandered back in time.

He remembered his old house, near the New York suburbs... and he remembered his mother.

Amanda Kasady was a thirty-five-year-old woman, wealthy and admired throughout the neighbourhood for her outstanding beauty.  
The Kasady's had always been the perfect prototype of the American family.

Mr. Jake Kasady was a former marine, now director of a transportation company outside New York. He was a man of about forty, hard and athletic, whose fame of Don Giovanni was often the cause of gossip among the people who lived by the way of Elm Street.

As you know by now, the spouses also had a small child: Cletus Kasady, and, according to them, they could not have wished for a more beautiful child.

The situation had not always been the case. Initially a family of humble origins, the Kasady managed to climb the top of society through a lucky win at the county lottery.  
This happiness, however, was very short-lived. This is because, just three years later, a tragic and unexpected event occurred: the sudden disappearance of Jake Kasady.

Cletus remembered it well.

It was during an incredibly sultry and thunderous day that a shot went off from the gun he had stolen from his father's wardrobe. That was how he considered it: not the day he fired, but the day a shot went off.

His father had felt the reed pressed against his left temple and, sideways, had looked at the child standing over him. He took a sip of beer, smacked his lips and commented: "I would be afraid, if I thought you had balls".

Once he pulled the trigger, Cletus sat beside him listening to the rain drumming on the garage roof. His father was lying on the ground with one foot shaking and a patch of urine spreading in front of his trousers.  
Cletus had not moved until his mother had entered the garage and screamed. But then she had hugged him, and the day after the body of his dead father had disappeared, probably buried under his backyard. No one had ever thought of checking.

From that moment on, the life of the Kasady's began to become increasingly harsh and melancholy. Especially for the son, who, in the times after the incident, became cold and detached even towards his mother.  
Cletus now also remembered the day of that vision. It all seemed so real ... as if experiencing the past and the present at the same time. As if he had gone back in time, almost thirty years ago.

In the vision was hidden behind the kitchen door, while the mother sipped afternoon tea in the living room of the house.  
As soon as the matriarch had placed the empty cup on the only table in the room, a corpulent old woman, wearing a maid's dress, began to make her way in his direction.  
Her face was adorned with a visibly agitated expression.

"Miss Kasady... I have some bad news" she whispered, forcing Cletus to strain his ears.

At the same time, the boy's mother raised an eyebrow, turning her attention to the housekeeper.

"I found some of those... parts, behind the tool shed. There were hairs and teeth, and the neighbours were out all day looking for the cat" the old woman continued. "In the city some people disappeared..."  
"Cletus has nothing to do with those horrible murders!" the mother replied coldly. "He's... only sad. That's all"

And, after uttering those words, the widow grabbed a napkin to wipe her lips and rushed out of the living room.

Behind her, Alma Stroode shook her head. Sometimes the naivety of her mistress made her almost tender.

A pawing of footsteps echoed behind him.  
She turned around, finding herself facing the figure of a young Cletus Kasady. He wore a white mask similar to the one used by the circus clowns and, in his slightly raised right hand, held firmly the handle of a silver knife, shining in the dim light of the chandelier.

The woman took a step backwards.  
"You don't scare me. I've raised you since you were tall like this" she said with her hand raised just half a meter from the ground.

Having done this, she stared straight into his eyes.

"I found those poor animals that you killed behind the house. I told your mother everything" she revealed with grim satisfaction.

Cletus didn't show the slightest sign of reaction.

"If it happens again... I'll call the police. Did you hear me?" she asked imperiously. "Now tell me the truth. Do you have something to do with that mess that happened in the city?"

As soon as the old woman had spoken those words, the young boy leaped forward and hoisted the knife in front of her face.  
Just before he could sink the blade into the maid's flesh, however, the tip stopped just a couple of inches from the housekeeper's nose.

Alma grinned.  
"Oh, do you want to kill me? Go ahead, do it!"

Cletus hoisted the paper cutter a second time, but was never able to complete the action.

The woman gave him a mocking smile.  
"Just like I thought. You couldn't have killed those people. You don't have the courage" she sneered amused.

The boy took off his mask, his brown eyes seeming to lighten.  
"Shut up, Alma... or I swear I'll kill you" he hissed through clenched teeth.

The waitress shrugged.  
"Oh, really? Then kill me. Come on! I dare you!"

Cletus raised his knife a third time.  
It would have been so easy to end that miserable life, right here and now, with a simple arm movement. However, to the woman's great satisfaction, the fatal blow never came. Instead, the young boy lowered the blade and gritted his teeth in frustration.

"I hate you, Alma. I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!" he spat in the old woman's face.  
Then he ran out of the room and into the bedroom.

He lay down on the mattress and grabbed his head with both hands.

"One day... I'll make everyone pay. I will crush every one of them like the insects they are!" he growled against the pillow.  
At the same time, the voices began to get stronger. Those whispers... slow and inexorable, inside his mind ... from which it was impossible to escape.

"Yes, I'll do so..."  
 _... I'll do so... I'll do so... I'll do so!_

* * *

**XXXXX**

* * *

His eyes were fixed on the straight line shown on the screen, which represented the heartbeat of the man, now completely absent.

He checked the watch on his right wrist.  
"Death of the first subject... at 21:00. Experiment failed" he said in an impassive tone.

Norman snapped his tongue, visibly annoyed.  
"What are the causes?" he asked with clenched teeth.

The scientist took another quick look at the equipment.  
"It's probably like with an organ transplant. Cletus' biology wasn't strong enough to support the operation and he rejected the Symbiote" he muttered, before releasing a discontented sigh. "This is such a shame. It will be difficult to find another person with that blood type."

"Don't worry, I'll ask my men to scour all the prisons in this county. I'll take bums off the road if necessary" Osborn replied coldly.

Octavius gave him an angry look.

"I'd rather work on healthier subjects."  
"Unfortunately it's not possible, and you know it well. Nobody cares if any criminal or delinquent disappears. But if we start to kidnap wealthy people, well... people will start asking questions, and that's something I want to avoid" the billionaire explained, in a tone of voice that didn't allow any reply.

Octavius just rolled his eyes.  
"Very well, I will remove the body and..."

He had no chance to finish the sentence.

He heard a strange one hissed behind him. Then, as if from nowhere ... he felt an unusual, burning pain, like a fiery knife in his back.  
Octavius stumbled, rummaged behind him blindly to touch the torn edge of the gown, then felt a slippery, surprisingly warm mass. With horror, he realized he was bleeding.  
Someone had really stabbed him! Who? The only people in the room were him, Mr. Osborn and...

He turned his head.  
Cletus stood behind him, free from the restrictions of the operating table, his hand stuck directly into his back. No... it wasn't a hand. It was red, full of filaments similar to blood vessels... and ended with claws the size of his forearm.

"Oh my God" Norman whispered, a few steps away from that gruesome scene.

Cletus turned his head towards him. His eyes were almost completely white, and his face was adorned with a stupid expression, with a half-open mouth and a trickle of drool running down his lips. Also, half of the face was covered by... something. Seriously, the billionaire didn't have the slightest idea how to describe that cluster of filaments that covered the serial killer's right cheek to the top end of the eye. It almost looked like a tumour.

Cletus made a quick flick of his hand, pulling back the "claws" and freeing Otto's body.  
The scientist fell to the ground and landed on something cold and wet. Vaguely, he realized he had landed on his own blood.

Then, the serial killer grabbed the operating table and threw it at Osborn. The man was not quick enough to dodge and was nailed to the opposite wall of the room, moaning in pain and surprise.  
The attacker didn't seem to mind him and came out of the only door in the room, with quick leaps worthy of an Olympic champion.

He began to run. Never stopping, never looking back.  
Meanwhile, the voices continued to chase him.

* * *

**XXXX**

* * *

Cletus Kasady stumbled forward, walking in the darkness.

He didn't remember how he had escaped from that strange laboratory, and he genuinely didn't care. At that moment he just wanted to escape ... escape from the pain that pounded in his temples.

Had he accidentally killed anyone? He vaguely remembered sticking his fingers... no, his claws... in the doctor's back. Wait a second... claws? Why had he called them claws?  
He put his hand to his eyes. Here it is, just as he remembered it. Pink meat, nails, fingertips... everything was normal.

He let out a sigh and kept walking. He just hoped nobody was chasing him.  
Large rusty pipes, full of cobwebs, crept loose along the ceiling.

When a loud **Clang!** echoed inside a wall, Cletus almost screamed in surprise. The adrenaline flow in the limbs and the heart was painful, for an almost paralyzing moment.  
After almost ten minutes he found himself in a slightly more lit room. There were abandoned newspapers on the floor.

The mice had nested there by the thousands. Entire families watched the intruder with wary ruby eyes.

Cletus stopped in the middle of the tunnel, right in front of a staircase. And the staircase led to the cover of a manhole, from which some kind of light shone.  
The traffic above him seemed uneven, and this was something, but the light... the light surprised him, also because he thought he had walked in that sewer for a few minutes. Had the darkness completely destroyed his sense of time?

Then, looking at the way out a few meters from his head, he realized that this was not the light of day, but that it was projected by a lamppost.  
The serial killer waited for a total of five minutes. No car passed on the manhole.  
This made him suspect that, more by luck that due to an innate sense of direction, he had managed to reach a relatively sparsely populated area.  
He began to climb and, using simple physical force, he opened an exit for himself.

The serial killer opened his eyes wide... and was blinded by the light of the street lamp.  
He found himself in a kind of park. Insects chirped among the tall bushes. Spring, cold and damp, still had a long way to go, but here - wherever it was here - the evening breeze was warmer.

Cletus saw a few flashes of light, a twinkle in the trees, but at first he paid no attention to it.  
The first thing that appeared to him clearly in his mind was that he was walking up a hill, probably near Central Park, and he felt a pain inside his body. Shaky on his legs, he came out of the trees and kept walking, never stopping.

He couldn't see well. He had the feeling that they had removed his eyes with a spoon. One side of his face felt sticky and, as far as he knew, the eye sockets could have burst like two grapes, dripping down his cheek.

He hit a garbage can, making it clink against the pavement. A bum who was nearby felt the noise, looked up ... and dropped the offer box he held in his right hand, opening his mouth as if about to scream because of the shock.

"Oh my God, what happened to you?"

Cletus didn't stop to answer him and continued to walk, merging with the shadows of the night.  
And so it was that after almost an hour, perhaps due to a twist of fate or a simple question of muscle or unconscious memory... the man found himself in front of his old house, now abandoned.

There was a small street set in the garden, a few meters from the road.  
On the other side there was a park, green and shady under the faint moonlight.  
The house of the Kasady's, in Cape Cod style, was the only building that stood at the end of a long dirt road. Cletus walked through it.

The grass in the garden came to life. In the trees the ivy was rampant, in bushes almost as tall as he.

The curtains on the windows were drawn and the mosquito nets rusted and swollen. There was no car in the driveway, and the serial killer had no reason to expect one. After all, who would buy a house where so many people died?

He didn't even try to enter through the front door, sure it would be barred.  
His old bedroom window was three meters above the ground and certainly closed, as was the one at the back and the sliding glass door. But there was the cellar window, with the handle not working. Ever since he lived there, it was always half an inch open, and seriously doubted that it had been repaired all these years.  
He used his hands to cut the mosquito net, then pushed back the window and slipped into the opening.

The cellar was a large room with rough walls, with pipes running along the ceiling. At the bottom, near the stairs, stood a rusty washing machine and an old clothes basket, while on the opposite side was the boiler.

The rest was a bunch of boxes and garbage bags full of rags; there was also an armchair in Scottish fabric with a stupid framed watercolour resting on the pillow, in faded colours.  
Cletus vaguely remembered drawing it when he was in junior high. It was real shit.

The Serial Killer paid no attention to it. He climbed the stairs to his old, completely empty room.  
He collapsed on the floor ... and the darkness enveloped him once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're enjoying what I'm doing with Carnage!  
> As alway, a great thank you to 1Storywriter1, the official corrector of this story!


	5. Avengers...assemble!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, a great thank you to 1Storywriter1, the official corrector of this story!

Peter was whirling at full speed through the trees of Louisiana. Unlike New York, the streets travelled didn't follow a pre-established network, but seemed to bend to the right and to the left as in a maze, which would have made driving a vehicle problematic even in the best conditions.

Well aware of the assaults that had undergone the other bases, Brokeridge had made access to the mansion as difficult as possible to the enemies who would have targeted him. And he had succeeded very well.  
The man had chosen a beautiful house: a modern, three-story villa with a hanging Chinese garden on the open roof. Militiamen guarded the building night and day, making sure it was protected from any approach and at any time.

Karen loaded Peter's data from his sensors, which showed three heat signals on the three flights of stairs that led to the attic. Two mercenaries were guarding the elevator, and two others were posted on the roof. Evidently, Brokeridge didn't like improvising.

"I see several signs", Sam announced, through the team's shared channel. "And two tanks on the right"

"Carol, Bruce, you have to take care of it, I'm aiming a phalanx of soldiers", Rhodey said, attracting the woman's attention.

"Soldiers? Nice. Are you going to do a show?"

"No, I was thinking of simple fireworks"

The Avenger operated the computer of the suit, gave a glance to the frontal weapons and chose the red ARMORED icon. With a slight buzz, the machine guns on his shoulders rotated into position.  
The front shells of the armour withdrew, revealing a battery of 1-A weapons, including six small infrared-guided missiles. "I will need the big artillery"

The soldiers had anti-tank and antimatter rifles, and high-powered rifles. They were ready to face whatever the army could throw at them, if not more.  
But now they had nothing to do with the army.

On a tree, a few meters from the garden, Peter followed the movements of the mercenaries around the perimeter and calculated how long it took the group of soldiers to complete the round before the next one arrived.  
The lapse of time was of an astonishing precision: from when the first one turned the corner to when the second one showed up, only nine seconds passed.  
Time was certainly not on his side, but Peter had to let it be enough. Moreover, the assault team would have earned him a minimum of distraction.

"Okay, ladies and gentlemen," Rhodey's voice proclaimed. "Ready to go in 9, 8 ..."

In silence, the vigilante positioned himself on another tree. A group of militia disappeared, and another took its place.  
He waited; he would wait for the corner to turn again and, when they turned because of the impending attack, he would make his move.  
Two garrisons passed in front of him. After the first pair of soldiers had disappeared, the next one would find itself struggling with the rest of the Avengers and this would have earned him precious seconds.

Peter inserted the night glasses integrated into his mask when Rhodey opened fire.  
In the space between the garden and the soldiers a rotating light exploded that dazzled them instantly. As they struggled helplessly, Carol jumped into the fray.  
She landed and punched the throat of the nearest soldier, immediately dropping him to his knees, then nudging him in the neck. For at least twenty minutes, the man would not recover.

Like a splinter, the woman headed for the other soldiers. They were still blinded, but the effect would soon be gone.  
She laid out two others without encountering resistance. Three were still missing.

She allowed herself a smile as she noticed with the corner of her eyes that the rest of the Avengers had gone into action, knocking down enemies as if they were flies.  
In front of her, a soldier rubbed his eyelids to clear his eyes, but, before he could, Carol flew towards him and kicked him in the face. Then she turned and landed another, while gunshots and explosions echoed behind her.

Meanwhile, Peter jumped out of his hiding place and glided toward the disoriented group watching the scene from the other side of the house. He knocked out the mercenary pair, immediately hid their bodies and looked up.  
He fired a spider's web on the roof and set off high, just before the other soldiers came out.  
Arriving on the ledge, he threw a spider web again, pecking at the legs of two guards lurking up there. Before they could even surprise themselves, he pulled them and dropped them. They tried to get up and fight, but the vigilante jumped on them.  
He went to the door to the building and broke the lock.  
Then he activated the mask transmitter and Carol's face appeared in front of him.

"I'm in, but to move better I'll need Brokeridge's position" he said softly.

"No problem" the woman replied. "Just give me a minute".

* * *

**XXXX**

* * *

Outside the building, the battle between the Avengers and the Hydra soldiers was taking place with no holds barred.

"Bruce, I'm going to give you a splendid ray of sunshine in the perennial darkness of Louisiana," Sam said, flying over the figure of the green goliath. "The main tank is a remote-controlled drone."

Hulk smiled with anticipation. "Then I can go full out."  
"Only with the first."

Bruce nodded in understanding.  
In order for Carol to concentrate on the tank driven by men - at the moment the most difficult challenge - he had to immediately take the drone out of the way. Trying not to kill the adversaries was always more difficult than giving them what they deserved, but Bruce had been considered a monster for too long, he would never have sown death.  
He made a leap in mid-air, rising almost ten meters above the ground. Then, he unloaded all the weight on his legs and landed hard on the roof of the tank.  
Three seconds later, the drone blew up.

The second tank approached and the turret rolled to position itself. The 75 mm cannon lined up to point straight into the green goliath.

Carol didn't give it the chance to shoot. She set the trajectory and launched two energy attacks. The first hit the front drive wheel and the second destroyed the track.  
The attack almost overturn the armoured vehicle, but the tank straightened, jerked and stopped.

Carol fired a third shot that destroyed the 75mm guns. When she finished, the beast that could have razed much of a city had become a huge door stop.  
Out of the corner of her eye, the woman noticed a tiny and familiar figure infiltrating the remains of the vehicle.

She waited for about half a minute.

"Carol, I managed to hack the command codes," Hope's voice said, through the transmitter. "I'm unlocking the door."

"The driver will be quite shaken, so be nice" Rhodey warned her.

"No problem" Carol replied . "You know I'm a sociable person."  
"Yes, just what everyone says."

The woman ran to the tank and found the hatch open, with Hope waiting for her a few steps from the vehicle. The man who led him was trapped inside a tangle of broken electrical cables. Carol had missed him by a hair's breadth, but in the end, the soldier would still be able to walk, though most likely limping.

"Concentrate even if it hurts" the woman said. " It's for your own good."

The man nodded. "The leg ... I don't ... I don't feel it anymore. I think they will have to amputate it."

He looked up, his eyes wide. "You have to help me. Please, help me!"

"They'll not amputate it " Hope commented, behind the soldier. "At least, not if we can bring you to the hospital as soon as possible ... before it goes into gangrene."

 _"Good"_ Carol thought. _"Give him an incentive."_  
  
She watched the man trying to resist the pain, but he couldn't. One or two minutes more and he would have been willing to start the Second World War just to end the agony.

"Now we could say goodbye and leave you here" the blonde continued. "But I doubt you could crawl out ... and even if you did, I don't think you'd leave this place in time. But if you give me some information, I can get you taken by a helicopter before your leg gets worse. Or you talk to me or you'll be alone."

"Whatever you ask me" the soldier said, blanching in shock. "I'll tell you everything. Just help me!"

"Good. If you give me the plant of this place and you tell me where your boss is, you will come out of here unscathed ... or better, battered but completely whole."

* * *

**XXXX**

* * *

Thanks to the cacophony caused by the rest of the team, Bucky had managed to infiltrate the house using the rainwater drainage channel, climbing it up to the roof. Certainly not the most practical way to enter, but the result was not less effective.

After he arrived on the attic landing, the heat detectors indicated that a dozen armed mercenaries were climbing the stairs. Someone must have realized that the attack on the outside was just a distraction.

Fortunately, the ramp was narrow. Difficult for soldiers to shoot without getting in the way. Difficult but not impossible, and Bucky never trusted the case.  
The men were now downstairs and, once they arrived on the landing, they would see him. At best he had an advantage of three seconds, and he had to make the most of them.

He made the countdown and jumped just when the first armed soldier appeared. The weight and the impetus pushed the man against the others, who collapsed like skittles, out of breath. An advantage for him, but it would have been short.

The soldiers immediately jumped to their feet, and the man moved into a fighting position. He certainly had nothing to do with beginners. He just hoped that Spider-Man and Ant-man had gone better than him.

* * *

**XXXX**

* * *

"Sorry!"

Peter threw a punch in the face of the nearest mercenary, breaking his nose.  
As he spurted blood from all sides, the man screamed in pain, as if the wound was much worse than it was. Perfect.

The first blow had the purpose of unleashing in the others a moment of terror to block them, even if for a little. Peter had to reap all the benefits that came.  
He leaned against the handrail of a staircase and used it to pry himself up. Then, he turned and struck another mercenary, trapping a third with a spider's web.

Another soldier fell backward, tumbling over the steps to collapse on the landing below. He didn't get up, but he was still breathing.

 _"Thank goodness,"_ Peter thought.

The vigilante nudged another mercenary in the belly, but he didn't yield. While grabbing him by the arm and preparing to hit him again, two more soldiers climbed the stairs towards him, holding guns.

They opened fire, not caring about hitting their partner, just to kill Spiderman.  
He reacted instinctively, moved the mercenary to the side to prevent the bullets from reaching him, and threw him away from danger. Then he stepped off the ladder with a somersault and neutralized them both.

"I'm taking too long," he muttered with irritation. The more he spent fighting these guys, the more Brokeridge's men would arrive.

Running forward, Peter knock out more militiamen and threw open the door to the attic. There was a soldier inside.

He stared at him, realizing that the vigilante had managed to outdo all the others. Then he started shooting.  
The teenager avoided all the bullets and kicked the man's chest, which ended up on the ground.

During the fall he lost the gun, then rushed to retrieve it, but Peter got there first. He kicked it away and turned to the guard.  
The criminal raised his hands in surrender.

"You know what? This is the first intelligent move of the day" the boy told him, trapping him in a cocoon of webs. "Unfortunately for you, you are still a criminal. See you around!"

There was only one room on the top floor. It had an antique decor, with tasteful antiques, already old at the beginning of the Victorian age.  
The tables with elaborate inlays depicting foxes and greyhounds recalled a hunting scene from eighteenth-century England. They were placed at the sides of a large upholstered sofa with rounded armrests and feet in the shape of a lion's paw.  
It was obvious that whoever lived there had a passion for hunting.

"Karen, I entered. What do you see?" Peter asked the artificial intelligence incorporated in his suit. Karen didn't hesitate to respond.

"I detect two traces of heat, behind that wall."  
"Uhmmm ... there must be a back door."  
"Yes, it's a secret staircase. According to the layout of the building sent by Miss Danvers, it's connected to a bunker behind the bedroom."  
"A bunker? All right, it could be a problem" he muttered in a low voice.

He walked across the room and found himself facing another long corridor with rooms on either side. The heat signals came from a room on the bottom, so he didn't waste time looking at the others. He was there for a reason, not for a tour.

The door was locked. It was the only one not wide open.  
He could have broken it, but he decided not to avoid any potential warning signs for anyone in that room.  
He pulled out a picklock from under his suit and moved it slowly, until he heard the lock click.

"Yes!"

He really had to thank Scott for those burglary lessons.  
Not that the vigilante had ever intended to rob anyone, but such a skill could always come in handy ... especially in cases like this.

The door opened and Peter was stunned.  
He would have expected more antique pieces, but the room was completely bare: there was no furniture, except for half a dozen large steel cages of one meter wide and two meters high. They were individual cells, and the bars were large enough to hold an elephant.

Only one was occupied by a prisoner, and next to it there was Brokeridge.  
The man had an electric prod in his hands and, as soon as he saw Spider-Man, he curled his face into a grotesque grimace.

"I suspected that the Avengers were the cause of all the commotion out there" he growled tightly.

Peter, however, had eyes only for the person locked up in the cage. She seemed ... a child. With long brown hair that fell on her face, dressed in dirty and torn rags.  
She was sitting on the ground, her head resting on her knees and her arms crossed. It was a horrible view.

Anger flooded the vigilante's body.  
"What did you do to her?" he hissed at Brokeridge, clasping both his hands in clenched fists.

The Hydra agent merely grinned.  
"You'll have no way to find out" he said pulling out the goad and starting to walk towards the Avenger.

Peter moved into the defense position.  
That man was tall, almost a meter above him. He looked strong and moved with confidence. That ... he was a professional.

The wall-climber came at him, but Brokeridge dodged him and grabbed him by the wrist. He tried to wriggle away, but his grip was tight and relentless. Then, with the other hand, the man grabbed him by the neck and threw him against the wall of the room.

"I'll take off all the air you have in your body, Spider-Man. You will die suffering the torments of hell!" he shouted with a sadistic smile.

Peter felt his mouth open to take a breath of air that never came. If he had any hesitation ... that man would have killed him.  
He gave him a knee in the chest at the diaphragm. Brokeridge let out a groan of pain but continued to squeeze his throat. Then the vigilante gave him another knee and raised his legs to trap his head.

He pushed him back, forcing him to let go.  
As the opponent left him, he pulled back his legs and spun around, hitting him against the wall on which he had locked him. He regained his balance, hit him in the belly repeatedly.

Brokeridge tried to counterattack, using the electric prod, but the wall-climber was quick to avoid any blow, and then trapped his hands in a spider web.  
After that, he kicked his head one last time. The opponent collapsed on the floor and Peter let out a sigh of relief.

"Guys, I caught Brokeridge" he said through the team channel, before turning his attention to the cages.

Shortly thereafter, Ant-Man and Bucky entered the room, quickly followed by the other Avengers.

"My God, what the hell were they doing in this place?" Scott whispered, as soon as his gaze settled on the helpless figure of the trapped child.

The rest of the Avengers all had dark expressions on their faces, now aware of what was really happening in that villa: human experimentation. A practice for which Hydra was unfortunately famous.

Bucky spat on Brokeridge's unconscious body. None of his companions dared to reproach him ... Not after what they had just seen.

With a slow, almost hesitant step, Peter approached the cage ... and opened the door.  
"Hey" he whispered in a calm and reassuring voice.

The little girl's shoulders tightened. She raised her head, revealing a pair of brown eyes, a thin and pale face, dirty, partly covered by long hair.  
When she saw Spider-Man, her impassive expression turned to fear. She drew back against the bars of the cage, whimpering.

"It's all right! We are not here to hurt you" the Avenger said, raising both hands to show her that he had no bad intentions.

The girl narrowed her eyes, baring her teeth in an almost animalistic snarl.  
Peter didn't seem upset.

"Come on, don't be shy. Come out" he continued in a gentle tone, holding his right hand forward.

The prisoner briefly looked from him to the rest of the Avengers, then to Brokeridge's body.  
Slowly, she began to crawl up to the shape of the wall-climber. She scanned the outstretched hand suspiciously, sniffing it a couple of times.  
To Peter she vaguely resembled a dog, but he immediately buried the thought to avoid bursting out laughing. It would have been completely out of place, considering the current situation.

After almost a minute spent analyzing the limb, the girl laced the vigilante's fingers with her own.

"See? Everything's okay" Peter said, smiling under his mask.

The girl just stared at him ... and then, she threw himself at him.

"Gha!" the vigilante shouted, while a pair of strange silver bumps pierced his shoulder. They almost looked like knives, and started straight from the girl's knuckles.

The Avengers stretched out instantly.

"Peter!" Carol exclaimed, her face adorned with a visibly worried expression.  
She pointed her hands towards the child, who hissed menacingly. The blonde growled back, charging cosmic energy into her fists.

"Get away from him ..."  
"No!" Peter interrupted her, arousing surprised looks by the group.

"I ... ugh ... have the situation under control," he coughed, attracting the prisoner's attention. She stared at him sideways and sniffed at his mask.

Carol gritted her teeth, taking a step forward. However, before she could go any further, someone put a hand on her shoulder, forcing her to stop.  
The blonde turned to that person. She discovered that it was T'Challa.

"Leave me ..."  
"If she gets nervous, she could attack him again," the sovereign admonished, pointing to the girl who still held Peter in a potentially deadly embrace.

Carol briefly passed her head from side to side of the room, visibly in conflict.  
In her heart, she knew that T'Challa was not wrong. One wrong move and ... no, she didn't even want to think about it.  
She took a couple of soothing breaths and looked back at Peter, waiting.

 _"Whatever you want to do, kid ... you better do it now,"_ she thought with hidden fear.

The teenager raised his head and, with great effort, placed a reassuring hand on the head of the prisoner. She stretched instantly, dilating her pupils like plates.  
The metal claws began to sink further into the target's flesh, but Peter didn't even attempt to withdraw.

"You're free ... we're not here to hurt you. We are here to save you" he whispered in a low voice, never taking his eyes away from the super-human hazel eyes.

The unnamed girl opened her mouth slightly, as if the vigilante's words had really surprised her.  
She looked once more from the wall-climber to the Avengers, and then again on the figure of Brokeridge.

Something seemed to snap into her mind.  
She sheathed her claws, producing a loud **SKRREE!** and making Peter wince because of the pain.

Then, the child's eyes began to fill with tears. She wrapped her arms around the vigilante's figure... and began to cry.

The teenager, initially surprised by the gesture, returned the hug, despite the shoulder injury.  
"It's ok. Everything is going to be ok ..." he whispered gently.

The tears of the superhuman grew in intensity. She pressed herself closer to the body of Spiderman, as if she could no longer do anything else.

All under the astonished eyes of the Avengers, who observed the scene with eyes mixed with relief, surprise and respect.

"That boy ... it's really amazing" T'Challa commented, crossing both arms in front of his chest.  
Mentally, Carol found herself perfectly in agreement with the sovereign's words.

* * *

**XXXX**

* * *

Once back at the base, Peter was immediately taken to the infirmary.

After hearing what had happened during the mission, Dr. Helen Cho, the official nurse of the team, had advised the use of points to close the wounds, much to the boy's consternation. You can imagine her surprise when, after opening the boy's suit in the exact spot where he had presumably been hit, she found herself in front of an almost immaculate shoulder, with the exception of some slight scars.

Carol had learned the news recently and had run to the infirmary.  
The vigilante was still there, lying on a hospital bed, partially wrapped in white sheets. And he was alone.

"Hi!" Peter greeted Peter, his face adorned with a little smile.

The woman didn't answer. She walked up to the bed and sat down beside the boy.  
"How do you feel?" she asked in a slightly worried tone.

The vigilante merely shrugged.  
"A little bruised, but overall I feel good. Having an accelerated healing factor can be really useful" he said with a grin, making his injured shoulder spin without problems.

Carol released a sigh, apparently relieved.  
"Perfect, then I can do this without feeling guilty."  
"Uh? Do what ... Ouch!"

Not giving him time to elaborate, the woman hit him with a quick slap on the back of his head.  
"What the hell were you thinking?! That child could have killed you!" she hissed through clenched teeth, visibly furious.

Peter sank into the pillow, swallowing loudly.

"But she didn't ..."  
"Not for lack of attempts" she interrupted him. "A few inches below and she would have pierced your heart."  
"But ..."  
"Did you stop to think, even for a second ... how would your aunt feel, if you were dead? How ... how would I feel?" she whispered, grabbing him by the shoulders and forcing him to stare at her.

The teenager was about to argue, but stopped abruptly. Carol's eyes were much brighter than he remembered ... vulnerable ... full of worry and sadness.  
Unable to bear that view, he looked down, letting a fringe of brown hair darken his view.

"I'm sorry, I ..."

He didn't have time to finish that sentence. Carol lifted his chin with one hand and met his lips with her own, in a warm and comfortable kiss. Peter's heart skipped a beat as his body seemed to melt.

After almost a minute, the woman withdrew.  
"You were very brave," she said with a tired and almost reluctant smile.

The vigilante scrunched up his face in a cheeky grin.

"Ok, so you're sending me very contrasting signals."  
"Take that smile off your face, I'm still angry with you" she replied, staring at him coldly.

The teenager shuddered in fear, expecting another slap.  
Instead, Carol leaned forward a second time, kissing him with greater intensity. Too surprised to respond to that show of affection, Peter stood still and motionless, his eyes wide and his thoughts racing.

The woman broke away, kissed his head, then his forehead, and finally put her lips to the boy's ear.

"When you're out of here, come to my apartment…if you want to be forgiven."

The wall-climber blushed abruptly, as the blonde rose from the bed, reached the door and gave him a mischievous wink.  
Once she was gone, Peter lowered his head, noticing a familiar swelling between the mattress sheets.

"Dammit, Carol ..."

* * *

**XXXX**

* * *

**New York**

Every day, after lunch, Jack Crafford spent an hour painting ships. It was his favorite time throughout the day.

Ex convict, put in for four years due to a robbery gone wrong, he started this hobby when he was still in prison.  
By now it had become a routine: he listened to the Berlin orchestra performing the sextet "the Clouds Atlas", and he painted eighteenth-century Spanish galleons, pirate schooners of the same period, and occasionally even smaller, artisanal models.

He had a very specific scenario in mind, made up of thirteen ships of the navy and as many pirate boats that were fighting near a Caribbean archipelago, built with sand taken from the bay of New York and palm trees of an old board game that he found after moving in the new apartment. ****  
  
Yes, he was definitely proud of his careful work. He felt that when his models were well painted, they would start moving on their own and attack the enemy lines. He was working on them also the day he died.

While he was about to complete a bastion of forty cannons, the man ran a hand over his forehead, feeling that it was warm and sweaty. He took a deep breath and felt a metallic smell like copper.

 _"A heart attack ... I'm having a heart attack,"_ he thought with a resigned sigh.

For about a year they had begun to become more frequent, and for a man who lived alone they could be very dangerous. That's why he had bought a Golden Retriever specifically trained for such situations. Whenever he felt sick, she would come running with a shoulder bag, containing the solution to be injected to avoid him dying on the spot.  
**  
** "Lily! Lily!" he shouted aloud.

But she didn't arrive. She didn't even respond with her usual barking.

Jack tried to figure out what he was doing that prevented her from hearing it. Maybe he was out playing with the palace janitor.  
He lifted the stool a couple of inches off the floor, moved it, and put it back down, staggering forward. Now that he was standing, his head had begun to turn. His thoughts wandered like goose feathers in a warm breeze.

An idiotic song ran through his mind, as obsessive as an enchanted record.  
"Home, home on the range! Where the critters are tied up in chains! I cut through their sides..and I rip off their hides..and the next day, I do it again!"

Only that the song increased in volume, becoming stronger and stronger, until it seemed no longer alone in Jack's head, but in the air around him, coming from the corridor.

"Everybody! Home, home on the range..." the voice sang. It was sharp, off-key and strangely scratchy, as if coming from afar, through a ventilation duct.

Jack saw a mysterious figure enter the door. He dragged Lily by the tail, but it didn't seem to bother her.  
Vaguely, Jack realized she was leaving a long red trail behind her.

 _"Oh God ... but that's blood!"_ The man realized, taking a step backwards.

The movement seemed to attract the attention of the mysterious figure, still hidden in the darkness, who turned to him.  
He raised his free hand, making a casual greeting.

"Hello, Jack. It's been a long time since our last meeting!" the voice exclaimed. A voice that the ex-convict could have recognized among thousands of other sounds.

He took a step backwards, swallowing loudly.  
"Cletus? Is it really you?"

"Ding, ding, diiiing, correct!" the shadow replied, letting go of Lily's corpse and beating both hands with mocking.

Jack began to walk the room diagonally, trying to get close to his desk without being noticed.  
"How ... how did you get out?" he asked with obvious fear.

Cletus just shrugged.  
"Good behaviour" he said with an invisible grin. Jack couldn't see the man's face, but he was pretty sure he was grinning.

He swallowed a second time.

"That's not possible ... they gave you six life sentences ..."  
"You remembered! Even if it doesn't surprise me" the serial killer interrupted, whose tone of voice had become much darker than it was a few seconds before. "After all… it's because of you if they gave them to me."

Jack's heart skipped a beat. He knew it ... oh God, he knew it! He was a dead man.

Cletus took a step forward, remaining in the shadows.  
"What I told you in that cell ... it had to be between us. And what did you do instead? You've spilled everything to the feds to get a reduction of two years on your sentence. TWO fucking years!" he growled through his teeth, producing a strange hiss. " You must be crazy."

"I just said…"  
"You JUST said" the serial killer interrupted, making him wince. "Just saying gets people sent away. Just saying... got me a twelve years stretch in Ryker's Island, you understand? So, 'just said' ... can get you buried real quick."

Now, the body of the ex-convict was shaking ... and not because of a heart attack.

"Cletus, listen ... maybe we can find some kind of agreement!" he stammered, raising both hands in surrender.

The shadow of the serial killer tilted his head to the side.  
"Cletus? Cletus is dead, my dear friend. You can call me ... Carnage"

He took another step, out of the shadows, revealing his real features.  
Jack had never seen anything so horrible. It reminded him of The Fly, that movie with Vincent Price in which a scientist crossed by mistake with an insect.  
The head of the serial killer was a red bulb of filaments, with white lenses for eyes and a grotesque row of sharp teeth by mouth.

Jack was sure there was something wrong with his brain. Is it possible for a heart attack to cause hallucinations?

Then, Cletus raised a clawed finger.

"And as you can see ... I'm more euphoric! AHAHAHAHAHA!" he exclaimed with a chilling laugh. A sharp and scratchy cackle, which resonated the entire length of the apartment.

The former convict turned abruptly, hoping he was close enough to the desk to grab the Caliber 45 he kept hidden in the drawer. He didn't get the chance.  
A pointed red harpoon shot from Cletus's finger, piercing Jack's heart from side to side.

The man spat blood and fell to the ground in spasms, while copious streams of blood gushed from the newly opened wound. All while the serial killer kept laughing.  
Then, the body of the ex-convict stopped moving.

Cletus walked to the desk and sat down comfortably, admiring his work.  
A strange pile of filaments started from the shoulder of the serial killer, approaching his right ear. It almost seemed that it wanted to whisper something to him.

"Now?" Cletus said, as if he were repeating a question that only he could hear. "Now, my good friend ... let's paint this city red!


	6. You mean everything to me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A special thanks to my beta-reader, 1Storywriter1. You should totally check his Carol/Peter stories in Archive of Our Own.
> 
> I wish you a good reading, and I hope you'll find time to leave a review!
> 
> Also, I made a cover for this story. You can find it in the first chapter, let me know what you think!
> 
> And here, if you want to check it, a video tribute about Peter and Carol ( made by me ) : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jgJdzSI4aFg&t=42s

Carol's fingers clawed at the sheets, squeezing them spasmodically, while the woman gasped for air. And her body ... her body trembled, it arched, drenched in sweat.  
It was all ... too much.

She shook her head, trying to hold back indecent moans, which tried to escape impetuously, how impetuous was the vortex of erotic passion in which she had fallen.  
She had forgotten how intense such a thing could be. She was not prepared for that desperate rumbling of her heart, for that contraction that took her from her belly, inflaming her.  
And she didn't know what to do, she didn't know how to act. She didn't know whether to stretch to try to calm her breath, bite her lips to appease her gasps, or to sink her hand into her lover's brown hair to tighten him more tightly.

"Peter", she sighed, closing her eyes.  
But he didn't answer. Maybe he wasn't even listening ... Or maybe yes. It didn't matter.

Relentless, the boy continued to torture her in a sublime and sinful manner. By now, Carol no longer felt in control of her limbs.  
She was only aware of that face between her thighs. Of that position ... so obscene but exciting at the same time, because excited was the mouth that moved on her sex. Warm, in perfect harmony with her boiling lower belly, which made her shiver.

They had been together for only a month, yet they had already arrived at this. Were they going too fast? Instantly she dismissed such a thought.

She stirred convulsively, while strong hands held her in a solid and secure grip.  
She narrowed her eyes, observing that face busy giving her pleasure ... giving her chills, giving her a moment of oblivion from reality.

She stretched out her hand, passing it between that hair she wanted to caress so much, to squeeze, to pull ...  
And he looked at her, making her body liquid. An innocent look of adoration, of excitement, asking for her tacit approval. Approval that she would be more than happy to give him.

She arched more, just wanting to be tasted, devoured, taken. Her hips snapped convulsively, her feet pointed at the bed, while her body swayed at the mercy of lust.  
Hot, pleasure, desire, orgasm ... a set of emotions that left her breathless.

She knew there was not much time left.  
Oh yes, she felt it. She felt it. And it was too much, too strong ...  
She would have liked to see his face, see him as she came, as she smeared him with her seed, caused by the pleasure he had given her.  
She wanted ... she wanted to see him tighten, as she stretched toward him, a hand squeezing her breasts and lips battered by his teeth. She wanted it ... but her eyelids went down treacherously and his name came out sharply from her lips, in a lustful and confused moan.

"Peter!"

The orgasm overwhelmed her, leaving her dazed, breathless, sensitive ... too sensitive.

She let herself be lulled by her own breath, by the furious beat of her heart, which seemed ready to burst in her chest.  
At the same time, Peter climbed on all fours on his body, curling up against her and resting his head on her breast. The woman sighed with satisfaction and began to play with his hair.

"Where did you learn to do it?" she asked after a moment of silence.  
"Internet", the boy murmured, without raising his head from that comfortable position.

Carol raised an eyebrow.  
"Internet? How ... oh."

A knowing smile began to form on her face, while the wall-climber lifted his head to meet her gaze. His cheeks were slightly flushed, as if he had been caught in the act.

"Peter Parker, I didn't know you were so shameless", the blonde commented, stroking his cheek. "I wonder how your aunt would react to discovering that an incorrigible pervert is hiding behind that little angel's face."  
"Caaaarooool" the boy whined, blushing further.

If possible, the woman's smile seemed to widen.  
"I'm just messing with you", she chuckled, hugging him in a warm embrace.

The teenager closed his eyes, letting himself be lulled. He could have stayed that way forever.

"Do we take the day off?" he asked after a few moments of quiet, tickling the woman's skin.

Carol released an amused sigh.  
"As tempting as the proposal is, I'm afraid I have too many things to deal with."  
"More important than me?" he asked, with a cheeky sneer.

The blonde started to argue, but before she could do so she felt the young man's lips settle on her own. She closed her eyes and savoured every moment of that contact.  
God, he was intoxicating, like a drug. Her personal drug, she thought ironically. It might have seemed like a sweet thought, especially for the standards she had, but she decided not to pay attention to it. After all, she too could indulge in a bad habit, for once.

She pulled away, cupping the vigilante's cheeks with her hands.  
"Peter Parker ... you will make me die" she said in a serious tone, making the wall-climber chuckle. He gave her a quick kiss on the nose, then cuddled to her a second time.

They remained silent for a few minutes, simply accompanied by the low, rhythmic sound of their breaths.  
When that time came to an end, Peter looked back at the woman out of the corners of his eyes, never raising his head from her chest.

"Carol ... I was thinking ..."  
"Uhm?" she hummed, stroking his hair.

The teenager took a deep breath.  
"It's been almost a month since the beginning of ... well, whatever you want to call what we're doing," he said in an uncertain voice, attracting the superheroine's attention.

"So?" she asked, wondering where the boy was trying to go.

"Would you like ... would you like to go on a date with me? A real date, I mean" he whispered in a low voice.

Carol remained silent, apparently caught off guard by the vigilante's proposal.  
She lowered her head, meeting his brown eyes, kind and full of hope. She felt a lump in her throat.

"Peter ... I ..."

She stopped, not sure how to answer. Something flashed in his companion's eyes, as if such a reaction was all he needed to understand the woman's thoughts.

"Forget it, I knew it was a stupid idea," he muttered in a low voice, visibly injured.

Carol started.  
"No!" she shouted suddenly, grabbing the boy's face and forcing him to look at her. "It's not a stupid idea at all, actually it's very sweet. It's just that, I don't know ... go on a date in public? Don't you think it's too early?"

The teenager stared at her strangely.  
"It's been a month, Carol. Almost all couples do this kind of things even before starting an actual relationship" he stated with de facto tone.

At the same time, the blonde pursed her lips in a sad smile.  
"But you also know that our relationship is not exactly the most ordinary one around," she said with equal conviction, which drew a contemplative expression on Peter's face.

He remained silent for another minute, searching for the right words to restart the conversation. In the end, he seemed to find them.

"Carol ... I want you to understand that I'm taking this thing very seriously," he whispered gently, gripping her hands. "So I'll ask you again. Would you accept coming to a date with me?"

Carol stood still and motionless, her eyes lost in Peter's eyes. A pair of shiny spheres full of feelings. Passion, care, determination ... a river full of thoughts so intense that it makes her shudder.

"Damn you and those beautiful fawn eyes" she muttered in a low voice, leaning forward and kissing the boy tenderly.

She drew back to allow him to catch his breath and noticed that the wall-climber was staring at her with a shy smile.

She released a resigned sigh, mixed with amusement.  
"Very well, Peter Parker. I ... will go on a date with you"

* * *

**XXXX**

* * *

"Mom, I'll be late for school", Morgan Stark whined, passing the doors of the Stark Tower with a certain woman with long red hair.

Pepper Stark released a tired sigh, as if she had heard that statement a million times before. And considering how much the daughter remarked on the concept during the entire car ride ... it probably wasn't a number so far from the truth.

"I'm sorry honey, but Mom has to get some things from her office. It won't take long", she tried to reassure her.

Mentally, she slapped her forehead. Last night, returning from work, she had forgotten important practices on the office desk. Practices that, within two hours, she should have presented at a corporate meeting at the New Hammer Industries on the other side of the city.  
To make matters worse, Happy, who used to take Morgan to school, decided to take the week off just three days ago.

 _"He couldn't have chosen a worse time"_ , she thought angrily, walking the main hall of the building with long strides. As usual, the palace was apparently deserted.

Morgan looked around, until her eyes caught a solitary and very familiar figure.  
"Look, Mom, it's Peter!" she said enthusiastically, pointing to the opposite side of the room.

Pepper followed her daughter's gaze. In fact, in the room adjacent to the hall, separated by a transparent glass wall, there was the young Peter Parker.  
Needless to say, the woman was rather surprised by his presence. After all, it was since the Avengers moved headquarters to the new base that she didn't see him set foot in the building.

He didn't seem to have noticed them, which was completely understandable since every glass in the Stark Tower was reinforced with anti-bullet material that muffled the propagation of sound waves.

She was about to call his attention with a scream, but the sudden arrival of a second figure forced her to stop.  
Carol Danvers appeared from around a corner, stopping in front of the adolescent.

The woman raised an eyebrow. Did Peter come here to see her?  
_"I wonder why..."_  
  
She had no chance to finish that thought.

She saw everything very clearly. The blonde wrapped her arms around the boy's shoulders ... and kissed him on the lips, while Peter grabbed her by the hips.  
Pepper's brain froze.

Her eyes rolled, unable to believe what she was witnessing. Yet it was true, as clear as the sun. Carol Danvers and Peter Parker ... were kissing.

Forgetting her daughter's presence, she scampered near the room without being noticed, using vases, statues and columns as a cover, until she found herself close enough to hear their voices.

"So ... tomorrow?" the vigilante asked, grabbing Carol's hands and staring at her with a little smile. The woman returned the gesture.  
"Tomorrow" she confirmed with a quick nod of the head. Then, she kissed the teenager a second time.

They remained glued for almost a minute, under Pepper's startled gaze. When that time came to an end, the boy broke away and left the room.  
Pepper immediately drew back behind the column she was using as a hiding place. Soon, she realized that Morgan had followed her, and now she was standing next to her with a vaguely perplexed expression.  
The redhead motioned her to remain silent, which the child respected.

Once the vigilante was gone, Pepper came out of hiding and looked around. Not even the shadow of Carol. She must have returned to her room.  
Morgan walked over to her mother and pulled at her shirt sleeve.

"Why were Aunt Carol and Peter doing that thing you and dad always did when I left the room?"  
"I don't have the slightest idea, Morgan ... but I'm going to find out" the woman answered, narrowing her eyes dangerously.

She gave her daughter some money. " You can go and get an ice cream at the cafeteria. Mom has to ... discuss some stuff with Aunt Carol."

The little girl raised an eyebrow.  
"But I'll be late for school. And then, I want to come" she muttered with a pout.

Pepper just rolled her eyes.  
"I'll write you a justification. And I'm sorry, but this will be a conversation between adults", she said in a tone that didn't allow replies.

Morgan, however, kept her sulky expression.

"... An ice cream and a coca-cola", Pepper added, unable to resist that vision.

The girl folded her arms.

"… With sugar" the woman sighed.

Morgan smiled with satisfaction and proceeded to trot in the direction of the cafeteria, with the redhead staring at her from behind.

"She took too much from you, Tony", she muttered resignedly.  
Then, with a determined gleam in her eyes, she began to walk towards Carol's room.

* * *

**XXXX**

* * *

Carol collapsed on the sofa in the living room, thinking back to the events of the last half hour. She had just agreed to openly go on a date with a eighteen year old boy.  
It made her a little uncomfortable, of course, but for some reason it was also strangely exciting. The thrill of the forbidden, to feel again in the fullness of youth ... it was all very stimulating, she had to admit to herself.

Someone rang the doorbell of the apartment, diverting her from those thoughts.

"Uhmm ... maybe Peter forgot something," she muttered, getting up from the sofa and walking to the door.  
Once opened, she found himself in front of Pepper Stark's figure.

"Hi, Carol", the woman said, her arms crossed in front of her chest and her face adorned with an impassive frown.  
Mentally, the Avenger found herself arching an eyebrow.

"Oh ... hi, Pepper", she greeted uncertainly. "Why are you here? I thought you had to attend a meeting at Hammer Industries?"  
"I forgot some practices on my desk, I just came to pick them up", the redhead replied coldly, maintaining that stoic expression.

Carol began to stare at her strangely.  
"I see. Do you need, uh ... something else?"

"From you? No", she said, squeezing both eyelids.

Ok, now she was seriously starting to worry her. She had never seen Pepper with such an ... hostile attitude.  
She went back in memory, trying to find any reason why she might have been angry with her. Had she destroyed the building's training room once again? Or maybe she was still irritated by the time she burned the apartment kitchen!

Before she could go on with that line of thought, Pepper started talking again.  
"So ... how's your relationship going?" she asked in an apparently casual tone.

Carol smiled knowingly.  
Ah, here was the real reason for all this. She probably just wanted some more information on her little secret report. Being cold and stoic was just a staging designed to make her feel guilty for some mysterious reason she didn't even remember, forcing her spit it out more easily. Well, she certainly wouldn't have made the redhead's efforts vain ... within reasonable limits, of course.

"It's incredible. Amazing, actually", she replied in a voice almost dreamy, leaning against the door and looking up at the ceiling. "I haven't slept much in the last week, but he's so ... anxious to please me. And I feel the same way about him!"

Was it just her impression ... or had Pepper's right eye begun to shake? Maybe she was just tired.

"He is so ... fresh, beautiful ... spontaneous. So good at... well, you know " she continued with a sigh. "Isn't it great?"  
"Er, yes ... amazing", the redhead replied, less enthusiastic than Carol would have initially thought.

Um, maybe she didn't want to hear such trivial stuff. It was time to use bigger weapons.

"I need to confess something to you, because it would embarrass me too much to tell anyone else", she said with her cheeks tinged with red, before indicating the lower part of the body. "His friend down there ..."  
_"Oh God, no!"_ Pepper thought .  
"... it's so beautiful. Seriously, I would sew him a hat", Carol continued, unaware of the mental cries of the other woman.

She gave the redhead a shy smile.  
"Did you ever imagine that I would be so satisfied? From a sexual point of view, I mean?"  
"No, not so much", Pepper muttered, bringing a hand to her forehead. "Especially considering that he still goes to the high school."

Time seemed to stop. An inexorable silence seemed to fall throughout the building.

Carol's smile gradually disappeared, being promptly replaced by an impassive expression.

"I don't know what you're talking about ..."  
"Save the play Carol, I saw you and Peter frolicking in front of the elevator" Pepper interrupted coldly.

The blonde's heart skipped a beat. She dilated her pupils, opening and closing her mouth a couple of times.  
In front of her, Pepper crossed her arms a second time, waiting.

After almost a good minute, realizing that no excuse would have been able to get her out of such a situation, Carol released a sigh and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"Ok, Peter is the guy I'm dating. Is that a problem for you?" she asked in a cold and detached tone, in an attempt to intimidate her friend.

Pepper took a step forward.  
"Are you serious?" she growled through clenched teeth.

At the same time, Carol squeezed both eyelids.  
"We didn't do anything wrong", she said undaunted, while the redhead raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, really? Then you won't mind if I talk about it with the rest of the team ..."  
"No!" the superheroine shouted, throwing herself forward and grabbing Pepper's shoulders. The other woman stared at her with a victorious smile.

 _"Damn"_ Carol mentally cursed, trying to regain control over her emotions.

"Please ... don't do it," she said after taking a couple of soothing breaths.

Pepper looked at her with a seemingly innocent look.  
"Do you feel uncomfortable with the idea of others knowing about it? Why should you? Oh, I know! Maybe because you're dating a teenager!?"  
"He's eighteen!"  
"So what?! He doesn't even have a legal drinking age!"  
"… Only in the United States."  
"That happen to be the country where he lives!" the redhead replied, raising both hands towards the ceiling.

The superheroine looked away, aware of how weak her excuses were.

Pepper released a tired sigh.  
"Carol, what the hell were you thinking? Seducing May's nephew? I didn't think you were so reckless!"  
"Well, if we want to point the finger, it was him who seduced me" the blonde answered, blushing intensely.

The friend stared at her with an impassive look.  
"What?"

"Believe me, I still have difficulty conceiving what happened" Carol said, with a shrug. "In short, just a moment before, we were just talking, then ... he kissed me. Like this, out of nowhere! From then on, things got pretty intense. I pushed him away, trying to forget the whole thing, so he showed up at my apartment. We tried to put things right, he kissed me again and ... well, the rest, as they say, is history."

"... How long has this been going on?" Pepper slowly asked.

Carol looked at her uncertainly.  
"About a month now. But we kissed for the first time on his eighteenth birthday" she revealed, realizing that lying would not lead to anything good.

Meanwhile, Pepper begun to stare at her with such intensity that, for a moment, even the blonde was tempted to back away, close the door behind her and fly out of the first window that had come within range.

"You have to break up with him", the redhead said suddenly.

Carol winced, putting a hand to her chest as if she had been hit directly in the heart.  
"... I won't do it", she replied coldly, after a moment of silence.

Pepper took another step forward, pointing to the superheroine.  
"I won't let you break Peter's heart, not after all that Tony has done to guarantee him a long and happy life," she hissed through her teeth. " It's just a boy!"

At this point, Carol's body was also invaded by a wave of pure anger.  
"Do you want to talk about your ex-husband? All right, let's talk about him!" she growled, as her eyes began to glow with a faint golden glow. "Do you know where I met Peter for the second time, after the battle against Thanos? A cemetery! He came there every day, crying at Stark's grave. He was desperate, he couldn't overcome his death!"

The resolute expression on Pepper's face seemed to falter, but the blonde had certainly not finished.

"I helped him to fight that pain. I helped him move forward and convinced him to honour Stark's memory by becoming a member of the team", she said pointing to herself.  
Then, Carol's eyes became more tired and vulnerable.  
"He's happy with me ... and I am happy with him. Do you want to reveal our relationship to the team? Do it, I don't care!" she exclaimed, turning back to the redhead angrily. "I ... I won't abandon him. I don't want him to go through that again."

Faced with such an outburst, for the first time in a long time, Pepper found herself at a loss for words.

She scanned the superheroine with a shocked expression, mixed with what could very well be guilt.  
"You really like him", she said in a resigned tone, receiving a nod from her friend.

"Yes. I don't know how it could have happened…but I like him", she muttered, lowering her head and shoulders with a disconsolate air.

They remained silent for what seemed an interminable time.

Pepper peered at the figure of Carol with critical eyes, searching for the slightest sign of dishonesty or deception in what she had just revealed to her. She found nothing.

"… I won't say anything", she said suddenly, making the Avenger stand up.

"R-really?" she stammered, staring at her with big eyes, full of hope.  
"Really" the redhead confirmed. "And God is my witness, I will probably regret it, but I recognize that your feelings for him are ... sincere."

In front of her, the superheroine released a sigh of relief.  
"Thank you", she said with a bright smile, which forced Pepper to look away.

 _"Sometimes I'm too good,"_ she scolded herself.

Then, she gave the woman a warning look.  
"But if I find out that you're just using him as a kind of anti-stress ... if you try to hurt him ... believe me, Carol, Hell will not be hot enough for what I will unleash on you. Not to mention what May would do to you."  
"You made your point", the Avenger said, swallowing loudly. "Anyway ... in my defence, I told you he was younger "

In response to those words, the redhead stared at her with an expression that promised untold pain and suffering.

Carol raised both hands in surrender. "I was joking."  
"I'm so close to stabbing you" Pepper snorted, and then crossed her arms in front of her chest once again. "Now, I've heard that you have plans for tomorrow. What is it about?"

The blonde blushed shyly and started to rub her head.  
"About that ... I need some advice."

* * *

**XXXX**

* * *

Being a freelance journalist, in most cases, meant choosing not to have masters.  
It was an ongoing attempt to stay away from the editorial lobbies and political protectors that affected careers.  
It was the need, after all, to express a fundamental freedom: to rebel against abuses (perhaps by slamming the door in the face when the pressure became unsustainable) and saying no to compromises with the powerful on duty.

For years, Nina Romina had made this profession a religious mission, not giving in to easy traps.  
The easiest was surely the Power. Because power corrupted, power engulfed, power pulled people into it!  
If you stood next to a presidential candidate in an election campaign, if you went to dinner with him and talked to him ... you became his henchman, an operator.  
She had never liked certain things. Her instinct had always advised her to stay away.

Just stay away from it, while today she saw so many young reporters who enjoyed the idea of being close to Power, of giving 'you' to Power, of going to bed with Power, of going to dinner with the Power, and using it to obtain glory and maybe information.

Nina had never done those things. She had always had this sense of pride that forced her to look at power in the face and say: "Fuck off!"  
She opened the door, put her foot in it, went inside, but when she was in his room, instead of pleasing him, she checked what was wrong and asked the right questions. This was journalism.  
And thanks to this belief, even today she was considered one of the best in the field, as shown by the huge trailer full of all the state-of-the-art equipment she used during her interviews.

Someone knocked on the door of the aforementioned vehicle, attracting the woman's attention, currently intent on settling her long black hair in a bun. It was probably her cameraman.

Nina released a sigh and went to open it. And that was her last mistake.

To welcome her was a tall, thin man, dressed in a white shirt and tight jeans. He had thick red hair, almost completely black eyes and a grin on his face. Also, he wore a camera around his neck.

"Sweetmeat!" he said laughing.

Nina stared at him, and at first she didn't understand what the hell was going on. But then, before she could feel shock and terror, something hit her stomach, piercing it from side to side.

The woman looked down.  
There was actually something stuck in her gut. A long red rod, similar to a spear, which started directly from the man's hand.

The woman spat a spurt of saliva mixed with blood, falling to the ground with a thud.

As he pressed the wound, Cletus approached. Nina's eyes were wide and scared. She struggled not to lose consciousness.

The serial killer lowered himself on her face and whispered: "Don't faint yet, Nina. Come on, let me see that you still have some spine! AH AH! Have you understood? It's a joke, because I can see the spine through the open wound and because of the pieces scattered on the floor. It's funny because it's true!"

Then, the man took the camera he had around his neck and turned it on.  
"Incidentally, if it is not too much trouble, with the spine in pieces and all the rest, I mean… do you think you can smile for a picture? It's a bit embarrassing to admit it, but I'm a big fan of yours."

"W-why…?" the woman stammered, as she felt her body getting colder.

Cletus' smile, if possible, grew bigger.

"To prove something ... to crime!"


	7. The Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's, finally, the first date. I hope you'll like it, let me know in a comment!   
> As always, a big thank you to my corrector, 1Storywriter1.

"At the first appointment it's very important to make yourself as attractive as possible to the eyes of the partner. As far as the look is concerned, designer clothes are not essential, it's enough to convey an idea of cleanness."

Carol read this on the list of suggestions that Pepper had written to her the day before, after the woman had told her that she had never participated in an actual romantic date.  
Not that anyone could blame her. After all, every relationship she had undertaken over the years had always been the result of a hit-and-run situation, perhaps a hot sex night, or a drinking contest in a bar, or during the moment of excitement following a gruelling fight, to dispose of the tension. And when she was a teenager she had never paid too much attention to the boys, she had always been more focused on earning money with a few jobs - usually as a bartender - and taking the courses necessary to get a good scholarship, due to the deplorable economic situation of her family.

She shook her head from those memories and looked at herself in the mirror, taking note of what she had chosen to wear: a black shirt with short sleeves, combined with tight jeans of the same colour and leather boots with a high bottom.  
Not exactly what would have been expected for a first date, she was absolutely sure of that. But, in her defence, she had never given particular importance to her clothing, in general it was enough for her clothes to be comfortable and practical for any situations in which she would have to fight.

"Well ... at least they are clean," she muttered to herself.

She gave her hair a last fix, a bit of make-up to highlight eyelashes and cheeks, and went out of the apartment.

Once she was out the Stark Tower, she looked around immediately.  
It was 10:00 o'clock, the scheduled time for the meeting, but not even the shadow of Peter. She expected it, that boy could never be on time.

She was about to take her cell phone and call him, but at that moment her eyes rested on a decidedly unusual sight.  
There was a huge white line drawn on the sidewalk of the Stark Tower, which started directly from the entrance and turned behind the opposite side of the building. It appeared to have been painted with spray plaster.

The woman raised an eyebrow and, taken by curiosity, began to follow it.  
After about a minute of walking, she found the end. It ended with a large arrow pointing directly to a bench. And on that bench ... there was a sheet.  
Carol grabbed it, finding that it was a note addressed to her.

"Sorry, I'm late", she read aloud, "But ... Look under the bench."  
End. It was all that was written above. Of course, without considering a small blue and red spider drawn in the corner of the paper.

Carol smiled knowingly.  
She lowered her head, following the instructions on the ticket, and found a tape recorder at the bottom of the bench, to which a pair earphones were attached.  
She rolled her eyes, apparently amused by the whole situation, grabbed the device, put the headphones on and pressed play.

"One, two, one, two, try ... yes, it works" the unmistakable voice of Peter Parker said. "Well, Carol, here's the day's program. As a first mission, you will have to locate a red vehicle with a monstrous displacement ... which you should not delay in seeing."

Almost like a signal, she heard a loud popping sound behind her.  
She turned, as her appointment reached her with a small red-chrome scooter.  
Carol took a quick look at the boy while he took off his helmet and greeted her with a dazzling smile. He wore a white shirt, beige trousers and a black leather jacket.

_"He looks very…hot, actually "_ , she had to admit to herself.

Meanwhile, the recorder started talking again.  
"And once you get on the vehicle, the second mission will be NOT to ask the driver what the destination is. First: because it's a surprise. Second: well ... because that is the purpose."

Carol returned the adolescent's smile, as he handed her a second helmet. The woman put it on her head and climbed into the saddle, hugging the boy from behind.

"Ah, I almost forgot! Do you want to listen to some music?" Peter's voice asked, through the earphones.  
And then, the recorder started playing on the notes of Bohemian Rhapsody, while the boy and the woman left the immense silhouette of the Stark Tower behind.

The first part of the journey consisted of three kilometres of roads that followed a suburb near Central Park, where there were bars, shops of all kinds and even a small wellness center where they did facial treatments with algae. Carol would never have set foot in there.  
But after that stretch of road, Peter had diverted to a tight path that led into the outer part of the park, which after the Snap was adapted for use on two-wheeled vehicles.  
He had pressed his foot on the accelerator, diving into the trees, making his way through bushes, bouncing over the occasional holes and lifting pieces of soil.

They arrived near a small square, in the centre of which stood a small kiosk.  
A distinctive feature of the gazebo - completely in wood - was an enormous ice cream cone painted next to the inscription "Stan's Ice Cream" on the top of the kiosk. A simple and direct name, a small dip in the past of an America that by now almost always aimed at the magnificent and the new.

"An Ice Cream shop?" Carol asked, after getting off the bike.

Peter took off his helmet, smiling brilliantly.  
"Yep!" he replied, almost proudly.

The superheroine raised an eyebrow. It was certainly not what she expected when Peter spoke of a "Surprise".

"You invited me out for a date and your first idea was to take me for an ice cream?"  
"This is not a simple ice cream shop, woman of little faith", the vigilante admonished, waving a finger in front of her face.

Carol stared at him amused. "Is that so?"  
"Absolutely. Because this is the BEST ice cream shop in New York!" the boy exclaimed, as if he was announcing a universal truth. "And you can't say you ate a good ice cream until you tried those of old Stan."

Having said that, he held his right hand forward, waiting for the woman to take it. Carol chuckled, pleased by the semi-gallant attitude of the wall-climber.  
He led her to the kiosk.

"Good morning, Stan Lee!" Peter said, once arrived at the counter of the gazebo.

She heard a small thud and a groan of pain, as if someone had banged his head against something. Then, from under the wooden plank, came a male voice.

"My ears are perhaps deceiving me ... or have I really heard the voice of young Peter Parker?"  
"Don't worry, Stan, your ears work just fine", the vigilante said, while a figure came out from the bottom of the bench.  
It was an old man, rather tall, with white hair pulled back, a neatly trimmed moustache and a pair of sunglasses. Which surprised Carol a little, since the sky was covered by clouds.

He smiled amicably in Peter's direction as he placed a wrench on the counter surface.  
"I haven't seen you for almost two months, I thought you had moved, or worse ... that you had stabbed me in the back with a cheap ice cream shop", he greeted him gravely.

The wall-climber released a loud snort.  
"You know I would never betray you. I was just a little ... busy, that's all", he offered with a shrug.

Stan Lee nodded sympathetically, then set his eyes on Carol.  
"And who is this beautiful girl?" he asked politely.

Peter made a couple of coughs and pointed to the woman.  
"Stan, I want to introduce you to Carol Danvers, my ..."  
He stopped abruptly, giving his colleague Avenger a sideways glance. Carol grinned, waiting to see how he would choose to address her.

"Er, best friend", the boy continued, blushing profusely.

Internally, the blonde found herself almost disappointed by such a label. But she immediately threw that emotion away, after all it was she herself who wanted to hide their relationship.

Stan looked briefly between her and Peter, apparently not entirely convinced by the words of the Avenger.  
After a moment of silence, however, he shrugged and smiled again in Carol's direction.

"A real pleasure, miss. I would shake your hand, but as you can see I was busy with some repairs", he said pointing to the wrench on the counter.  
He kicked under the seat, muttering: "The cooler tube continues to fail."  
"Don't worry, I appreciate the thought anyway", the superheroine replied, smiling in turn.

She pointed to the sign of the place.  
"Peter told me that you make the best ice cream in all of New York."  
"Well, young Parker is wrong!" the man exclaimed. Then, he pointed a finger in the direction of the sky. "My ice cream is not the best in all New York ... but the best in all the world!"  
"A very bold statement", Carol commented, visibly amused by the extravagant mannerisms of this Stan. He was certainly an energetic person.

"And 100% true, I assure you" the old man confirmed. "Our country seventh for literacy, twenty-seventh in mathematics, twenty-second in science, forty-ninth in life expectancy, one hundred and seventy-eighth in infant mortality, third in average family income, fourth in the labour force and exports ... But God can strike me if at least here, in this little corner of Earth, we are not the first in the ice cream category!"

With that said, he grabbed a cone from under the counter and filled it with a chocolate ball.  
"Go ahead, try it", he urged, handing Carol the ice cream.

The woman inspected the cone from top to bottom.  
"How did you know that I wanted this kind?" she asked with suspicion.

Stan tapped the side of his nose playfully.  
"The tricks of the trade", he said with a mischievous wink.

Carol looked from him to Peter, who shrugged as if to say "Don't ask me".

She took another quick glance at the ice cream ... and took a bite.  
First came the frost, the cold embrace of frozen milk mixed with hazelnuts that wrapped her taste buds like a blanket, sending a brief twinge to the brain. Then the world became an explosion of flavours, while the chocolate melted in her mouth and slid down her throat.

The superheroine closed her eyes, savouring that moment with almost methodical attention.

"So?" Stan Lee asked, in a tone full of anticipation.

Carol gave the man a brilliant smile.  
"I think it's the best ice cream I've ever eaten", she admitted, taking another bite.

Peter raised his right hand.

"Excelsior!" he exclaimed, while Stan hit it with his own.

Faced with that funny and unusual scene, Carol couldn't help but burst into a real excess of laughter.

From then on, the rest of the day passed almost too quickly, in a succession of many small activities: some walks, a picnic lunch prepared by Peter himself, a visit to Coney Island, and even an hour spent feeding the squirrels inhabiting Central Park.  
When it started to get dark, the couple stopped in the middle of a meadow to observe the stars, just like that night almost a month before.

The teenager gave Carol an uncertain expression.  
"Are you, uh ... having fun?" he asked hesitantly.

The woman smiled, before grabbing his head and kissing him tenderly.  
"Are you satisfied with this answer?"  
"No" the boy said with a little grin.

The blonde snorted with amusement. "Yes, I'm having fun. Are you happy, now?"  
"Extremely", Peter said, receiving an elbow in the ribs in return. Then, the superheroine leaned her head on the vigilante's shoulder.

They remained in that position for almost half an hour, their eyes lost in the direction of the enormous starry vault above them. After that time passed, Carol leapt to her feet.

"And now ... I think it's time to repay you," she said with a flirtatious smile, bending down and hoisting Peter's chin with the tip of his right index finger.

The teenager blushed profusely.  
"H-here?" he stammered, looking around to see if anyone was around.

Carol playfully tapped his cheek.  
"Cool the hot spirits, cowboy, it wasn't what I had in mind. Even if your idea has potential", she added almost to herself, while the wall-climber looked away.  
"O-oh ... sorry" he muttered, cursing himself for jumping to such a conclusion.  
 _"Damn hormones!"_ He thought angrily.

Carol chuckled, helping him to get up from the ground, and began leading him into the city.

* * *

**XXXX**

* * *

Arriving near downtown New York, Carol led Peter through the crowd to a low building built between two alleys. Inside, lights and shadows pulsed in time with the music of pounding bass.

The boy stopped abruptly.

"A Night Club?" he asked, astounded. "Seriously, who did you take me for?"  
"For a mortal and very boring buzzkill who has never spent a minute of his life away from the study", the woman said, with a mischievous smile. "I think you need to spend some time unleashing and stop racking your brains."

Peter stared at her with little conviction. True, he had never been to a nightclub in his entire life, not just because he wasn't exactly the most popular of the guys ... but also because he didn't know how to dance.  
Internally, he was worried about making a bad impression on Carol.

Unbeknownst to him, the woman hadn't set foot in that kind of establishment for over forty years, always too busy protecting the universe in order to afford such amusement, as when she was younger.

Finally, after a moment's hesitation, Peter let himself be led into the building.

Inside, the air was heavy and stale and the environment was misleading. It was as if, passing the door, Peter had been immersed in a cacophony of mixed sounds and smells.  
He closed his ears for a moment, heard his trusty heartbeat and relaxed a little. It took him a moment to fight the sense of claustrophobia.  
On the dance floor in the centre, a throbbing globe of multi-coloured lights flashed and jerked, surrounded by bodies that rolled and rubbed against one another in a languid, indecent pantomie. The noise was so loud that it was deafening.

It was a place dominated by movement and impressions. With that unguided music, the dancers moved according to the body, with a gesture that the observers interpreted freely. There were as many shows as there were patrons of the place.

Carol gave him a bright smile and started pulling him towards an isolated table.  
Peter wanted to talk to her, but the tacit rules of the disco prevented him. And so he followed her and sat in silence, hands clasped in his lap, and began to observe the swirl of the dancing crowd. Even the track, where the bodies clashed quietly, seemed too crowded.

Many people all wore fashionable clothes. Peter, banal and staid with his beige trousers and white shirt, felt even more out of place. But as the minutes passed, seeing that people focused mainly on the dance floor, his embarrassment diminished and his shoulders became less rigid.

A waiter passed them, with a tray full of glasses. Carol stopped him with one hand, grabbing two drinks, and paid. Then she handed Peter one of the glasses.  
He took it and studied it carefully. He sipped the contents.  
It was blue, sparkling and too sweet, with a taste of melon, elderberry and ethyl alcohol. But she drank it, and so did he too.

They watched the dance floor for a while, the bodies flailing like induced by hidden signals, writhing and turning in time with the pulsations of the luminous globe.  
The shadows flickered, flickered on the walls, on the ceiling and on the floor, and alternated their configurations according to the syncopated movements of the dancers.  
Then, before he could even protest, Carol grabbed his hands and dragged him into the crowd.

Peter soon found himself surrounded by dozens of moving bodies, some of which clashed against him.  
He tried to avoid them, trying to follow the rhythm of the music, but his every attempt was in vain. This, at least, until Carol wrapped her arms around his neck, forcing him to look at her.

Her lips curled into a sensual smile, her face half hidden in the dim light, which, combined with the intermittent lights of the ceiling, gave her an almost supernatural aura.  
She began to move at the time of the song, with quick and snappy movements, rubbing her body against Peter's. The teenager suddenly straightened, surprised by the contact, while an intense heat enveloped his stomach.

Carol kissed his cheek, taking a step back and continuing to move, as she ran her hands through her golden hair.  
In a short time, the wall-climber found himself lost in the show, in the pure aesthetic essence of that dance, in the impeccable synchronism that the woman had with the roaring music.

He began to imitate her, first awkwardly, then more confidently, as she wrapped her arms around his hips.  
They could feel the breath of each other caressing their faces, accompanied by the sweet aroma of alcohol and the warmth of their bodies.  
And then they danced. For a long time, without stopping, without coming off, as if there were only them and no one else in that room.

Once they were too tired to continue, they left the Night Club and let the damp and cold night air fill their lungs once more, as they laughed at the absurdity of what they had just done.  
After they calmed down, they started walking towards Times Square.

Halfway, Carol glanced sideways at her companion, wondering how their relationship could have taken such a turn.

Initially it annoyed her that Peter didn't want to be satisfied with sex. He also had to love her. And she had guessed it for a while now.  
He wanted to talk as much as make love, maybe even more. He wanted to do things for her, buy her gifts, take her to a date ... everything that couples engaged in a healthy relationship did. Every now and then she was angry with herself, for letting herself be caught up in his web.

For the first few days she had planned to be stronger: going to bed once or twice - to show him that she appreciated him as a man - then returning friends and finding someone else to spend the night with. The problem was that she preferred Peter over most of the other people.

He smelled good, he was cute, funny and making him angry was harder than trying to do the same with a Disney character. He was even as soft as a Disney character.  
It irritated her that she liked to touch him and cling to him. Her body always rowed against her, pursuing its inalienable goals. But overall ... it was also a good feeling.

"Wouldn't you feel like wandering around the world and do crazy things?" she asked suddenly, attracting the boy's attention. He stared at her in surprise, apparently caught off guard by the unexpected question.

Noticing his confusion, Carol decided to elaborate.  
"Rock Cleveland, for example! Doing things that people of your age should do? Living a full life", she said with a de facto tone.

Peter raised an eyebrow.  
"Rock Cleveland?" he asked amused.

The woman just shrugged.  
"You know ... have fun", she said, moving her body slightly, imitating the same dance he had witnessed only a few minutes before.

The teenager began to stare at her strangely.  
"Carol ... I literally spend every day of my life jumping from skyscrapers", he said patient, as if he was trying to explain something complicated to a child.

The blonde's cheeks turned red.  
"You know what I mean", she muttered sullenly, punching him in the shoulder. The vigilante winced slightly, rubbing the joint with an irritated air.

He glared at the superheroine, and she smiled at him impertinent. Against his best judgment, the wall-climber found himself returning that mischievous expression.  
"Actually ... I never felt more alive than this", he said after a moment of silence, wrapping an arm around the woman's back.

Carol released a resigned sigh as she rested her head on the boy's shoulder.  
"Why do you have to be so damn romantic?" she whispered in a low voice, receiving in exchange a quick kiss on the forehead.

She closed her eyes briefly, enjoying that gesture of affection so spontaneous and full of feeling, letting the warmth of their bodies huddled together was the only thing to guide them on that cold night.

"And what about children?" she asked suddenly, surprising the teenager once again. "Wouldn't you like to have your own children, one day?"  
"Why do you ask me that?" Pete asked, visibly perplexed.

The woman seemed to hesitate.  
"It's just ... I don't think I can have any. Not with a human being, at least. You know, alien biology and all the rest", she whispered in a low voice.

Peter dilated his pupils.  
He remained silent for almost a minute, holding the blonde closer to himself and starting to caress her back gently.

"Have you ever tried it?" he asked with a touch of uncertainty.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that Carol had lost her gaze, as if she was in a state of deep contemplation.  
"I've never had any interest in it", she replied after a few moments of silence, dismissing the whole affair with a simple gesture of her right hand.

Peter sighed, stopping abruptly. The woman imitated the action, turning to him with a visibly worried expression.  
Her fears, however, disappeared at the same moment when the boy gave her a sweet smile, full of affection.

"As much as the prospect of having a child seems intriguing… I think for now I'll be content with your beautiful brown eyes", Peter said, laying both hands on her shoulders in a reassuring way.

Carol smiled back, cupping his cheek.  
"I love you" she said through a tired sigh.

Too late, she realized what she had just said.  
She jerked upright, her cheeks coloured red. Peter was staring at her with his mouth wide open.  
 _"Damn!"_ She shouted mentally.

"And ... and I love when you compliment me, I love it" she said quickly, hoping with all her heart to change the subject. An attempt that, predictably, turned out to be unsuccessful.

"It's the first time that I hear you say it", Peter commented, with a little grin.

If possible, the blush on the blonde's cheeks seemed to become more pronounced. "I don't know what you're talking about."  
"No? You said _I love you_ ", the boy repeated, taking a step forward.

The woman hid her face in her hands.  
"I didn't say it", she groaned almost desperately.

Peter chuckled, visibly amused by the whole scene.

"Yes, I'm pretty sure you did", he teased, receiving a look from the superheroine.  
And when she tried to argue or deny it, he leaned forward and kissed her tenderly, grabbing her chin to bring her closer to him.  
Initially surprised by the gesture, the woman wrapped her arms around the boy's neck, while some passers stared at them with knowing smiles.

When she broke off to catch her breath, the vigilante stroked her cheek.  
"For the record ... I love you too", he whispered in a low voice, making the blonde's heart palpitate. It was one thing to be aware of his feelings towards her ... another was to hear it in person.

She felt lost, lost ... a little scared ... but strangely relieved.  
"Really?" she asked with a resigned smile, as if trying to confirm an uncomfortable truth.

Peter ran a hand through his hair, smiling in embarrassment. "Sorry, but it's true."

Carol bit her lip, then released another sigh.  
"We should go… slower", she said awkwardly, trying in every way not to meet the boy's eyes.

He stared at her in surprise as his gaze gradually took on a glint of unwilling acceptance.  
"Slower", he repeated, smiling sadly.

Then he took her in his arms, with his teddy bear's grip.  
Carol sank her nose into his neck, just above his shirt. God, how she loved his smell! It tasted of cedar and open air. He smelled of responsibility.  
For a moment, in that embrace, the woman abandoned all worries and remembered what it meant to be really happy.

They resumed walking shortly afterwards, in silence, until they reached Times Square. Once there, they sat on a bench along the perimeter of the square and remained to admire the surrounding area.

Like every night, that part of the city looked like a concentration of human energy about to explode. Located between Broadway and the Seventh Street, it was the clash between the old and the new, where the past, present and future of New York were compressed into a single block.  
Times Square represented the spirit of the time of that city, petrified in walls and windows, in screens and alleys, invisible fluid enclosed in stone by measurements, proportions and shapes. A point of light in the perennial darkness of the metropolis.

"I'm glad we did this thing", Peter suddenly said, attracting his companion's attention.

Carol watched him with amusement.  
"To the past?" she asked, crossing both arms in front of her chest.

The teenager just rolled his eyes.  
"Ok, I'm glad we're doing this thing." Reworked.

The woman's grin grew larger.  
"Well, now it sounds unbecoming", she commented, clinging to the vigilantes' body.

He gave her a shrewd look. "I always liked the word _unbecoming._ "  
"I like it too", she said, leaning forward.

They stared at each other for what seemed an interminable time, waiting, a competition of glances from which neither of them seemed willing to retire.

"I think I should ask you what your intentions are, Spider-Boy", Carol whispered.

The teenager smiled in turn.  
"Spider-Man, young lady. And my intentions ... are unbecoming", he murmured, as he was about to kiss her.

The woman closed her eyes, waiting for the inevitable contact. It never arrived.  
A loud crackle put her on alert, forcing her to withdraw. The action was promptly imitated by Peter.

Across the city, the televisions, as well as the huge screens that appeared along the various advertising buildings arranged in the square, began to vibrate.  
The various effigies that made up programs, films and TV series began to give way to a distorted image without any form, only to reveal a nightmare figure.  
Many spectators put their hands to their mouths, trying to hold back a scream in front of that horrifying sight. In fact, on the screens of Times Square, the image of a creature that seemed to come straight from the mad deliriums of a poor madman's place had taken place. A humanoid with a red skin, crossed by filaments like blood vessels, with a face bristling with sharp teeth and a pair of white lenses instead of eyes.

"Good evening, New York and New Yorkers, wherever you are! I thought I'd take a break from my oh-so-pressing commitments to say goodbye to you and make some not-so-veiled threats" the monster said, with a high-pitched and gratifying voice. "So, hello and goodbye ... I will kill you all! Ahahahahahahahahahah!"

The laughter echoed all over the square like a gunshot, making most of those present jump. Only Peter and Carol managed to maintain a composed attitude, looking at the whole broadcast with narrow looks.

"Sorry, sometimes I feel like I'm killing myself... especially when I think of killing you", the monster continued, moving a forked tongue between his jaws. "But, hey, before moving to the 'total destruction' phase of our little experience of terror ... let's draw some of our favourite children for a special announcement!"

He slipped a clawed hand into his side, and the arm lunges into the flesh as if it was butter. Then, he pulled out a crumpled sheet and pointed a sharp finger at the screen.

"Judge Vernon Claridge! I'm telling you, big guy ... and your future looks dark, really. In fact, if I were a seer, I would say that the bell will certainly ring for you this night at midnight", he said with a chilling smile. "Oh, what the hell, I'll say it anyway! You will die at midnight, Vernon. And then we'll all have a good laugh behind you. Bang!"

The screens turned black.

While a loud buzz began to rise from the crowd of spectators, visibly shocked by what they had just witnessed, Carol quickly turned her head to Peter.

"Do you know where this judge's house is?" she asked urgently, knowing well that the teenager knew New York better than she did.  
Unfortunately, the answer she received was not the one she hoped for.

"No, but I can ask Karen to track it down", the boy offered.

The woman nodded in agreement.

"Do it now", she ordered imperiously.  
She just hoped they would arrive on time.


	8. Carnage

**A year ago**

Carol was waiting on the top of a port-mounted load near the bay of New York, when a slim and sculpted shape landed in front of her with an impeccable pike jump, thanks to which he could win the maximum points at the Olympics.

Spiderman, aka Peter Parker, smiled behind the mask and held out his hand.  
"Hello, Carol! It's been a while", he told her cheerfully.

The woman nodded formally, but kept her hand on her side.  
"You said you had important information to share with me", she said coldly.

Peter frowned behind the mask, but tried not to show it. After all, he knew that Carol had a military background, she was the kind of person who preferred to avoid any kind of confidence during the missions.  
He lowered his arm and took a deep breath.

"Yes", the vigilante replied, with a professional tone. "That's why I asked you to meet us here. Look over there. Do you see those trucks?"

He pointed to the lower part of the port area, more specifically a large warehouse that stood out on the edge of the piers. Next to it, the superheroine managed to glimpse a total of five large transport vehicles.  
"They came from the Hammer Refrigerator", she replied with a nod of the head. "So what?"  
"They belong to the Maggia", Peter revealed, surprising the woman.

Carol knew that name well: the Maggia, one of the most long-lived and influential Mafia families in all of New York, active since the 50's and led by the ruthless boss Silvio Manfredi.

"They are using them to load the weapons that for years have kept stock in different secret locations", the wall-climber continued. "My sources have told me that at any moment a war will start, because all the gangs are fighting for the place that was once occupied by Wilson Fisk. And they say that when it happens ... rivers of blood will flow in the city."

He looked again at the trucks.  
"Thanks to those weapons, the Maggia intend to become the last great New York Family", he ended grimly.

Carol nodded sympathetically, "Which means we must find them and destroy them before they come into their hands."  
"That's exactly why I came prepared", Peter said, handing her a strange contraption the size of a coin, whose shape vaguely resembled that of a spider. "It's a detector, a prototype that I invented. With this we can trace the trucks wherever they go and recover the weapons before the Maggia."

The woman smiled, apparently impressed by the boy's sharp mind.

"Very well, I'll start from this and follow the trucks. Thanks for the tip", she told him, with a quick pat on the shoulder.

The wall-climber's lenses opened in surprise.  
"Wait, what?" he asked incredulously. "Carol, this is something I discovered. I will come with you!"  
"I'm sorry, Peter, but my answer is definitive", the blonde replied coldly. "I appreciate the information, but fighting the highest levels of organized crime goes beyond your current skills. I'll take care of it myself."

"I know what you're doing", the vigilante replied as he walked to the edge of the building to watch the trucks pull away. "But I'm not a kid any more. I'm a responsible person, and I'm very good at what I do ..."

He turned to argue with the woman, but Carol had already disappeared, flying in pursuit of the vehicles.  
Peter shook his head.

"No, not this time" he said with determination.

* * *

**Later...**

* * *

Carol followed the first truck across the city to an abandoned industrial area, then lurked at the top of a tree in front of the gate.

The truck stopped in front of a gate and, as this clicked opened, a guard greeted the man driving.  
The truck entered and walked around the storage facility to a small building at the end. Four men came running out.  
One opened the trailer's door, while another pulled a key out of the jacket and took care of the building's door.

Carol was about to attack them when Spiderman landed next to her.

"I told you not to come", the woman hissed.

The teenager simulated a surprised expression. "Is that so? Man, I thought you told me to come and give you a hand. I didn't heard the 'not'. Just to come ... oops."

Carol growled, but the boy gave no sign of having noticed it.  
"So, since I'm already here ... do you need a partner?"

The Maggia henchmen entered the small building and found about thirty wooden crates piled up four on top of each other. The man who had opened stared at them, his mouth wide with dismay.

"They will weigh at least a ton!"  
"No problem, guys"

The four turned and found themselves in front of Captain Marvel, leaning with her arms crossed near the door.

"We will be happy to get rid of them", another voice said.

When they looked up, the criminals saw Spiderman sitting comfortably on one of the crates, the red and chrome costume shining in the darkness.

"It's that damn bug!" one of the criminals exclaimed.

Peter jumped on him. He took him by the trunk with his legs and began to spin, hurling him from the other side of the room.  
"When will people learn? Spiders are arachnids, not insects!" the boy complained.

The three companions remained petrified, while the fourth began to rise again.  
Peter jumped in mid-air, landing next to him and hitting him a second time.

"No, no", he told him with a teasing tone. "This time you stay down."

The criminal decided to stay still, then Peter turned and saw Carol who with perfect efficiency knocked out two more members of the gang.  
The vigilante grabbed the last thug with a spider's web, knocking him to the ground and taking his breath away.

"The choice is yours, friend", he said with a shrug. "I can hit you... or I can let her do it."  
**  
** He pointed to the companion, while she lit up the fists of an intense golden glow.

"This need to remains between us, she likes to hurt the bad guys. For me? It's just a hobby. Bust she loves it! Or…we can make a deal", the teenager continued.

The delinquent's eyes widened in fear.

Behind the mask, Peter gave him a dazzling smile.  
"Good boy. Just tell us where the Maggia hid the rest of the weapons", he said pulling the man closer to him. "Can you do that? Please?"

"I don't know!" the criminal replied, sweating profusely. "I swear! I'm just a truck driver, the Maggia never reveal anything to me!"

Peter turned to Carol. "What are you saying? Thumb up or thumb down?"

The woman didn't answer and approached the man, grabbing him by the collar of his jacket.  
"Are you lying to me?" she growled coldly.

"No, oh God, no!" the criminal screamed, pissing himself. "No, I could never do that! You would kill me. I'm telling the truth!"

From the look the blonde gave him, it was possible to tell she didn't believe him.

"Maybe you should kill him anyway", Spiderman commented, as if he were evaluating the pros and cons of such an action. "You know, just to laugh."  
_"What?"_ Carol thought, with a touch of anger.  
Before she could scold the vigilante, however, the man screamed: "I don't know nothing about hiding places, I swear! But I know where the next load of weapons is headed!"

He looked at Carol and then to Spider-Man.  
"Is that enough for you?" he asked with fear.

The two superheroes peered at each other in what appeared to be some kind of silent conversation. Then, they nodded in unison.  
And then the criminal told them everything he knew, and it wasn't much. As he turned to Spiderman, Carol punched him and put him to sleep.

The woman turned towards her companion.  
"Here is the Spiderman style!" he said, proudly.

The blonde found herself grinning.  
"Too much talk," she commented, immediately breaking the wall-climber's enthusiasm. "But apart from that ... great job. I think we make a good team."

And for some reason, she imagined that the smile formed behind Peter's mask, at that precise moment.

* * *

**XXXX**

* * *

**Present :**

George Stacy had kept the office of the New York Police Department commissioner as bare as possible.  
On his desk there were two framed pictures of his daughter Gwen. One portrayed her alone, in another she was with him, in the last she posed next to her mother and dated back to many years before, to better times ... before Thanos.

On the wall were hung certificates and photos that immortalized him receiving various prizes from one mayor to another.  
His predecessor had attacked lithographs depicting generic views of New York in the 1930s, and Stacey would also have removed them if they hadn't left blatantly discoloured gaps in their place, so he had avoided.

The carpet, now smooth for decades, had belonged to the predecessor's predecessor's predecessor.

When he accepted the assignment, Stacy was convinced that if he made that office more familiar, he would end up spending twenty-four hours a day, including Saturdays and Sundays, in that six-by-eight prison.  
On the other hand, if he kept it Spartan, on the verge of discomfort, he would have had more reason to go home at night to his wife and daughter and try to preserve at least the appearance of a normal life.

The plan was good ... the result was disappointing. Apart from Gwen, his family had split up a long time ago.

He collapsed into a chair, a new and very comfortable economic model that he had paid out of his own pocket.

He spun around to look out of the dirty windows of the window that framed the New York skyline. In front of that beautiful panorama, from that height and through an opaque surface, he could delude himself that there was a time when the metropolis had been a source of hope and not just of desperation. And if there had ever been, he ended up with the Chitauri attack in 2012. The bandage had loosened and now revealed the infected wound beneath it.  
Even the so-called 'superheroes' - he still called them vigilantes - had proved unable to heal it.

A knock on the office door took him away from those thoughts.  
"God, I'm getting old", he muttered with a bit of resignation.

Meanwhile, a young woman with short black hair and Asian features entered the room. Her name was Yuri Watanabe, and he was one of Stacy's most trusted detectives, as well as first in line for the post of Commissioner - or, at least, this was the common thought of most policemen.

"Commissioner, we have a situation that requires your direct intervention", the woman said, with a cold and sharp look. "It's bad, boss ... very bad."

To his surprise, Stacy could feel a certain degree of discomfort in that inflexible tone.  
Yuri looked ... upset. And in all his years of service he didn't remember ever seeing her show the slightest sign of weakness.  
Yes, the situation had to be really serious.

"Let me take the jacket", he replied with a quick nod of his head.

* * *

**XXXX**

* * *

The two-story brick house stood in a tree-lined garden, set back from the road.

Peter stopped under some branches, watching it carefully through the lenses of the mask.  
He forced himself to stop the fear he felt inside. Although he would never have admitted it to anyone, the transmission of that psychopath had upset him greatly.

"Be careful and keep your eyes open", Carol ordered him through the communicator **,** as she entered though the main door.  
**  
** Peter responded with a quick "roger" before he jumped to the house's roof.

Some people in a car passed, glanced briefly at the house, then looked away.

Slowly, the vigilante moved to the side of the house, moving cautiously, turning on the infrared built into the mask.  
He stopped twice to listen. Looking from one of the rear windows he could see the light coming from the front of the garden that outlined the furniture. There was an intense jasmine scent in the air. At the back of the house a veranda stretched for almost the whole length, on the door of which was engraved the head of a lion.

Without wasting time, the teenager unlocked the window on the second floor and entered without making a sound.  
He tried to turn on a light, but the house remained immersed in darkness. Probably the serial killer had blown the current.

The vigilante checked every room, from the bathrooms to the bedrooms, but there seemed to be no sign of the owners.

He went down to the ground floor, entered the dark kitchen and started looking around.  
In the darkness he could see the two blue flames for the automatic lighting of the gas stoves, while in the air there was a smell of furniture wax and apples.  
A thermostat clicked and the air conditioner turned on.

Peter gasped and felt a shiver of fear. However, he calmed down almost immediately.  
He knew the fear well, he had experienced a lot during the battle against Thanos, he could now control it.

Shaking his head from those thoughts, he continued to analyze the room methodically.  
On the wall beside the stove two framed sheets were hanging. On one was written: "The kisses are ephemeral, a good lunch no."  
On the other: "It is always in the kitchen that friends like to stay, to feel the heart of the house beat, to draw comfort from it."

"Here you are", a familiar voice came behind him, making him wince.

Carol, whose face was partially covered by the mask incorporated in her suit, merely smiled.

"Don't scare me like that", Peter hissed in a low voice as he glared at her.

The woman shrugged and started looking around. The vigilante gave a loud sigh and proceeded to do the same.  
He spotted the kitchen clock, which was half past eleven. The announcement of the murder took place about twenty minutes ago.

Swallowing, the boy continued to scour the area ... and froze.

"Did you find anything?" Carol asked, noting that the teenager had suddenly stopped.

The vigilante seemed to hesitate.  
"No, nothing at all ... Apart from that", he said, pointing to a specific point in the kitchen.

Carol quickly approached him and followed his gaze.  
She held a jolt as her eyes settled on a series of letters written in large letters along the wall of the room ... apparently with blood. The association arrived quickly and spontaneously, above all because the material used to create the writing was red and much warmer than any type of paint - at least according to the internal systems of the suit.

She read: **" _One by one, they will hear the call, then this evil city will follow me in the fall. Signed, your friendly neighbourhood Carnage!_ "**

 _"Well, it's not disturbing at all"_ , she thought ironically.

At the same time, following the infrared vision, she noticed that a copious amount of that unidentified liquid was leaking from one of the beliefs.  
"Wait a second ...", she muttered in a low voice, slowly approaching the cabinet.

Spiderman stretched out behind her, opened the cabinet and ...

"Oh my God!" the vigilante exclaimed, taking a few steps back.

Carol was also forced to withdraw, while Claridge's arm dangled outside the compartment, revealing the judge's lifeless body.  
His eyes were wide, his mouth wide open in a silent scream and his body covered in blood. Above him stood the corpse of a slightly younger woman, whose condition was about the same as the man's. In all probability, she was his wife.

"Damn it", Carol hissed, her hands clenched in tight fists.

She turned, feeling the sound of something breaking behind her.  
Peter leaned against the only bedside table in the room, dropping a glass in the process.  
His shoulders were lowered and he was breathing heavily.

"Are you okay?" Carol asked with concern, approaching him quickly and putting a hand on his back.

After a few moments of silence, the teenager jerked upright.  
"Yes, I ... I'm fine. Just give me a second", he muttered in a low voice, while the woman embraced him tenderly.

Initially tense, Peter let himself be enveloped by the reassuring warmth of her body, resting his forehead on the superheroine's shoulder.  
Then he slowly pulled away and took a couple of soothing breaths.

"I can do it", he said with determination, receiving a nod from the companion.

The woman looked back at the corpses.  
Based on what she saw, the killer had cut Claridge's throat, probably while he slept next to his wife. Then he killed her too.  
At that point, the judge had come down from the mattress with his throat cut and tried to protect her, losing a great deal of blood and dying in the process. Finally, the killer had transported both bodies to the kitchen, blocking them in the cupboard.  
But then ... why didn't they find any more blood shed in the house? Was this Carnage like a kind of vampire?

"Hands up!" a voice behind the couple shouted, while a dazzling light illuminated the interior of the kitchen.

Carol turned, taking a quick look at the person who had just stepped into the house.  
It was a man apparently in his fifties, a little taller than her, with short white hair and dressed in a blue coat. It was certainly the policeman's badge that stood out on the belt of his trousers.

"Commissioner, we should really stop meeting like this", Spiderman said next to her, with arms raised mockingly.

He heard a curse as George Stacy lowered the gun.  
"Ah, it's just you", the man muttered bitterly as he glanced briefly at Carol. "Why doesn't your presence here surprise me?"

The vigilante just shrugged. "You know what they said. When work calls ..."  
"Well, I'm trying to do mine", the policeman interrupted him coldly, before pointing him out with a hard expression on his face "This is a crime scene, I would like you to leave before you end up contaminating it."

Peter raised an eyebrow. "It's a crime scene, yes, but we have the right ..."  
"Obviously", Carol said with an easygoing smile, as she rested her right hand on her partner's shoulder.

He stared at her, ready to argue. A quick glance from the woman, however, was enough to silence him.  
He sighed resignedly, while the Commissioner nodded in satisfaction.

Without wasting time, Carol began to drag Peter out of the house.

"I think he doesn't like you", she commented with a small grin, receiving an impassive look from the wall-climber.

"What makes you say that?" he muttered, with a mocking tone.

Of course, by now he was almost used to the way the police treated him, it was nothing new. But in his heart he still hoped that, perhaps in a day not too far away, they too would have begun to appreciate what he was trying to do in New York.

Having said that, their little investigation had borne fruit anyway. He just hoped that the pictures taken with the internal camera of the suit had a good resolution.

* * *

**XXXX**

* * *

The Avengers Meeting Room was wrapped in total silence.  
It was occupied by Carol Danvers, Peter Parker, Bruce Banner, Sam Wilson, Bucky Barnes, Scott and Hope Lang, headed by James Rhodes.  
T'Challa had to return to Wakanda for reasons related to the nation, while Strange was still busy with his duties as Sorcerer Supreme.

After everyone sat down, Rhodey closed his eyes and mentally counted to three.

"Ok. Now ... can any of you explain to me what the hell happened last night?" he asked with a resigned tone, as if just talking about the topic would have caused him an illness at any moment. And, considering the number of phone calls he had received in the last hour due to these events ... well, he considered himself lucky not to have perceived the slightest sign of a cerebral aneurysm.

"There's not much to say", Carol admitted with a shrug. "I was in Times Square and I witnessed this Carnage's message live, while threatening to kill Claridge."

"Carnage ... it sound like the name of an 80s movie serial killer", Scott commented, receiving in exchange a slap from his wife.

Ignoring the Avenger's antics, Carol spoke again.  
"Me and Spiderman were the first to reach the place. This is what we found", she said turning on the projector in the room.

A few seconds later, on the screen there were several images depicting the scenario that Peter and Carol had witnessed once they entered the judge's house, complete with an overview of the bodies of the victims and the inevitable written blood painted along the kitchen wall.

"Jesus", Hulk whispered, unable to avert his eyes from that creepy vision.  
Scott put his hand in front of his mouth, trying to hold back his gag.

"In addition, we were told that the body of a journalist who disappeared two days ago was recovered in the backyard", Carol continued.

"This guy is really sick", Sam muttered, before noticing the very pale expression of a certain wall-climber. "Is everything all right, kid?"

The teenager started, making the hearts of all the Avengers sink. After all, they could understand his reaction, to see such a mess at his age... it was something they would never have wished for anyone.

"Yes, I ... I'm still trying to get that image out of my head", Peter replied, with a faint smile.

Carol looked at him sadly. She would have liked to spare him this meeting, but she knew that his presence here was fundamental, among all of them he was surely the most active superhero in New York.  
Meanwhile, Bruce had begun to analyze the rest of the picture.

 _"_ One by one, they will hear the call, then this evil city will follow me in the fall", he read aloud, attracting his comrades' attention.

"Great, so he's also a poet", Hope commented, while Carol squeezed both eyelids.

"No, he's a murderer. Just that", she replied coldly.

Sam gave her an unimpressed look.  
"It's much worse than that and we both know it. I mean, he slaughtered those people out there just to deliver a message!"

Wasp nodded in agreement. "And let's not forget the journalist found in the garden. Why the hell did he kill her?"  
"He wanted the transmissions van of the television crew", Bucky intruded, who had remained silent until that moment.

The others stared at him strangely, so he decided to elaborate: "With some adjustments, now he will be able to transmit live whenever he wants."

Rhodey sighed wearily.  
"So, in summary ... we have to deal with a human endowed with super powers with homicidal tendencies, a weakness for theatricality and a personal transmission system?"

"It's the Freddy Krueger Show all over again", Scott muttered, hoping with all his heart that his wife hadn't heard him.

Beside him, Bucky shrugged.  
"Well, at least we know that he's not shy. Tracing him may be less difficult than we think", he offered with a patient tone.

Sam stared at him incredulously.  
"So what, are we sitting here and waiting for him to show his face? It could take days."

"I don't think so, no", Peter suddenly muttered, attracting the group's attention.

Swallowing hard, the teenager laid his cell phone in the centre of the table.  
"I think you should take a look at this."

Perplexed, the various superheroes stepped forward to better observe. What they saw, as soon as their eyes landed on the surface of the cell phone, would haunt their dreams for the night ahead.

Carnage's grinning figure stood out in the centre of the screen, surrounded by a total of five naked and bloody human bodies, hanging by their feet like pigs ready for slaughter.  
Based on the time shown along the bottom of the video, Carol realized that the transmission was taking place in real time.

"Gooooood Mooooooorning New York!" the creature exclaimed, with that unmistakable sharp and scratchy voice. "It seems that the dear Avengers have not been able to prevent the fulfilment of my prophecy last night. But don't be sad, guys, some things are written in destiny! Ha ha ha ha ha ha!"

After bursting into a chilling laugh, he pointed to the corpses behind him.  
"And as you can see, I took advantage of this beautiful day to free some misunderstood souls ... What a great party we had, I assure you! Oh, the horror!" he continued, while the various Avengers could barely hold back their anger.

 _"Those were people, you bastard!"_ Peter thought furiously.

At the same time, the serial killer began tapping his jaw, as if he was contemplating something.  
"And hey, I must say that I like my new name ... Carnage. Funny that my mother never thought about it", he muttered to himself, before shrugging.

He turned his attention back to the screen.  
"So, I bet you're all wondering what old Carnage can do that is up to last night's show? How about another deadly game?" he said with that timeless grin. Then, he pointed dramatically at the camera. "Mayor James Erbert, the hand of destiny points towards you! You will die at nine this evening! And as for the rest of the program ... well, it will be a surprise, but I promise you it will make you die laughing!"

With that said, one of the lenses shrank like a wink.  
"And now we leave you to your usual and frighteningly boring day. Aufiderzen!" the creature ended, while the transmission stopped instantly.

Silence reigned inside the room.  
None of the Avengers seemed intent on commenting on the speech they had just witnessed. This, at least, until Scott had the courage to open his mouth.

"Well ... shit."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, shit indeed, Scott. Because the next chapter will be a real mess! Carnage will do a lot of crazy stuff.
> 
> I hope you liked the chapter ;)
> 
> And as always, a big thank you to my corrector, 1Storywriter1! You're the best.


	9. Car Chase

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was the most difficult to write (at least for now), so I really hope that the final result will satisfy you.  
> It contains the longest action scene I've ever written, so I'd really like to know your opinion about it.  
> As always, a big " thank you! " to 1Storywriter1.

"With all due respect, Mr. Erbert ... I think you should take the whole thing much more seriously."

Carol Danvers spoke these words about two hours after the supervillain known as Carnage had threatened the life of Mayor James Erbert on live television.  
The man, short and stocky, with his face marked by time, his white hair pulled back and his mouse ears, had dismissed the whole matter with a derisory snort.

"My dear, do you know how many death threats I receive every day?"  
"And how many of them came from superhuman murders?" Rhodey replied, his face adorned with a visibly angry expression. God, how he hated dealing with politicians, a sentiment that Carol fully shared.

Sitting comfortably at his desk, Erbert just rolled his eyes.  
"You don't understand, I've been trying to organize this fundraising for more than a year, I cannot cancel it out of the blue", he explained with a de facto tone.

Carol squeezed both eyelids.  
"Taking part in it would be like putting a target on your back", she said with a hint of irritation.

"That's why I have bodyguards", Erbert answered, smiling patiently.

The woman stared at him incredulously. "We're talking about a superhuman! They won't be enough."

"Miss Danvers, I understand your concern. I really mean it!" the man replied warmly, getting up from his seat and making a conciliatory gesture with his hands. "The situation is not as bad as in the case of a hurricane but it's critical. Especially considering that it's the work of a single man."

Having said that, he pursed his lips in an annoyed grimace.  
"Obviously, for what voters think, it's all my fault. But I don't know what else I could have done! It becomes increasingly clear that we are faced with someone who has no other motivation but to create terror. And the sad thing is that, if this is what he wants, he will not have much trouble getting it. Hell, if this is what he wants, in some ways he has already won!" he exclaimed, before pointing a finger at the Avengers.  
"But I will not allow this psychopath to aggravate my city further. This fundraiser will give us the opportunity to provide work for many people", he said with a determined expression.

Despite her best judgment, Carol found herself respecting the man's intentions. He was unconscious, of course ... but an unconscious with the best intentions. And in the end he had done much more for New York, in these five post-Thanos years, than almost all his predecessors had ever done before. **  
**He was an idealist ... but with someone like Carnage there was a risk that such an attitude would lead to his death, and this was something that the woman couldn't afford.

"At least let us give you support", she said in with almost pleading tone, hoping at least to be able to reduce the chances of an attack. After all, that psychopath would certainly not have attacked a man who was under the protection of the most powerful heroes on Earth ... or maybe yes? Was he THAT crazy? Honestly, Carol didn't have the slightest desire to find out.

Erbert stared at her for almost a minute.

"… All right, as long as you don't give in the eye. So don't even think about taking that green giant with you, the last thing I want is to alarm the guests", he warned with a tone that didn't allow replies.

Carol released a sigh of relief. It wasn't much ... but it was something.

* * *

**XXXX**

* * *

Ron Partridge, a member of a transport company associated with The Oscorp Industries for almost thirty years, released a resigned sigh as he took a long look at the truck he usually used to make his daily deliveries.

He had parked the vehicle near a steel factory just outside Harlem. During the night, a few gangs of kids had painted graffiti on the side of the vehicle: a big black phallus complete with balls, spraying dark junk on a pair of red globes that were probably boobs but, in the eyes of the man, looked rather like Christmas decorations.  
Ron, a sloppy-looking fiftieth man dressed in grey overalls, was currently cleaning the side of the vehicle with a metal sponge and a bucket of dilute caustic soda.

After about half an hour, he took a step backwards to complete his work. The balls had disappeared almost completely, showing the grey of the frame below. Only the black phallus and the big tits remained, but he would deal with them later. For now he just wanted to rest and read the latest release of the Daily Bugle, the most popular newspaper in New York.

With another sigh, he walked to a light pole about twenty yards from the truck and leaned against it, opening the copy of the magazine.  
He lit a cigarette, breathed the smell of nicotine, and carefully read the title that stood out in large letters on the first page: CARNAGE TERREFIES NEW YORK! WHERE ARE THE AVENGERS?

"Unbelievable", a voice behind him muttered, making him wince. He was sure he had heard it somewhere already.

Driven by curiosity, he turned his head slightly. There was a man apparently in his thirties, with thick red hair, electric blue eyes and a face with sharp features. He must have been one of the factory workers, perhaps on a lunch break.

His eyes were on the newspaper page, so Ron assumed his words were related to the article.

"You can say it, pal", he muttered, taking another quick drag of his cigarette. "When I was young ... well, things were much simpler."

"My father always said the same thing", the stranger said, leaning on the light pole. "And, in some ways, I understand what you mean. Once it took so little to amaze people, and now? People accept alien invasions as if they were part of Taco Tuesday."

The bellboy chuckled, although he couldn't help but feel a certain sense of unease. He was certain enough to have heard that voice somewhere ... and not in friendly circumstances.

"Do you know what's the thing I miss most about the good old days?" the man resumed, looking up at the sky. "Magic shows. Once I attended one where there was a guy pretending to explode."

"Bo Keaton!" Ron exclaimed, smiling with nostalgia. "Oh my God, that was a good trick. Did you really see it?"

"Yes **,** and it was an incredible experience. He arrived, exploded, scared people to death ... and after that he was fine, he wasn't hurt at all. It was very, huh ... conceptual", the stranger said, with the typical grin of someone who knew a lot about how those things worked.

Ron relaxed almost immediately. Yes, that guy looked like a nice person, probably he was just looking for a good conversation.

"I really envy you, I got to see it only on television", the deliveryman commented, dropping his cigarette and turning it off with his foot.

If possible, the already very big smile on the stranger's face seemed to widen.  
"Not only I saw it, but I know how was able to do it! Do you want me to show it to you?"

"Are you kidding? Oh yes! Of course!" Ron replied, his eyes lit with excitement. Like almost all the people of his generation, he too had always had a soft spot for magic tricks.

The red-haired man shrugged and stood in front of him.  
"Okay. Raise your right arm and give me your hand with the other one", he said patiently.

Puzzled, Ron did as ordered.

The stranger nodded in satisfaction. "Here we are. Are you ready?"  
"Absolutely. So what's the trick?" Ron asked, with a raised eyebrow.

At that very precise moment, the eyes of his conversation partner were crossed by a mischievous glint. "The trick? The trick is ... there's no trick!"  
"Eh? What do you mean ..."

And those were the last words the man was able to say.

It all happened in the fraction of a few seconds. Something red and stringy protruded from the stranger's fingers, thrusting into Ron's tightening hand.  
The symbiote crept into his body with rapid and ruthless efficiency, expanding its mass. Shortly thereafter, the man's body exploded like a balloon filled with tomato juice.

Cletus Kasady admired his work with an ecstatic smile, his face bathed in the blood of his latest victim.

"Well, I'll definitely put this in my personal top ten", he commented, before bursting into laughter that the citizens of New York had learned to fear in the last few days.

Then, the serial killer looked at the abandoned truck a few steps away from him.  
"Hello, beauty. Would you like to take a ride with Uncle Carnage?"

* * *

**XXXX**

* * *

James Erbert's limousine rumbled through the Town Hall entrance ramp along the direct route to central New York.

The emergency response force was waiting on board three vehicles: a dented SWAT van with a state license plate on its head, and behind it two police cars with the engines idling.

Bucky Barnes hoisted the bag with the assault equipment on his shoulder and walked to the limousine.  
Four men watched him coming through the open back doors, including the mayor himself.

The Avenger muttered something to the driver who was hunched over the steering wheel and sat in the back seats, facing Erbert and the pair of bodyguards who stood beside him. Shortly after, the car left to emerge on the pleasant autumn evening.  
Nodding in satisfaction, Bucky grabbed a communicator from his belt and brought it to his mouth.

"The package is moving", he said coldly. "What is the situation down there, Carol?"

**_"All quiet for now, Rhodey and I scoured the building from top to bottom. Sam?"_ **

**_"I have a complete view of the area around the building, if someone tries to enter I will identify him instantly. Spiderman?"_ **

**_"Here's your friendly neighbourhood spider with an overview of the gardens! Not even the shadow of Carnage."_ **

**_"No sign even at the buffet corner!"_ **

_**"Scott, stay focused"** ,_ Hope ordered, with a resigned sigh.

At the same time, the limousine left the boundaries of the town hall.

The car proceeded at a speed of just ten kilometres per hour, accompanied by police cars, one on each side of the limousine.

After passing Central Park, the city began to get more and more crowded.  
Young men and women dangled in front of the many bars and small shops scattered around the area, while some children played along the edges of the sidewalks.  
A low impala with four men on board slipped into little traffic and walked slowly behind the police van, only to leave once the limousine reached Sixth Avenue.

The entire street had been richly marked as a closed area to any unauthorized vehicle, through the use of various road signs.

Inside the vehicle, the tension and silence were almost palpable.

"Really a nice arm", Erbert commented suddenly, pointing to Bucky's prosthesis. "What can it do?"

The Avenger just glanced sideways at him. Then, he turned back to the panorama that stood out beyond the door window.

The mayor shifted uncomfortably in the seat.

"You ... you don't talk much, do you?" he said with a nervous smile. This time, Bucky didn't even deign to acknowledge his presence.  
"Apparently not", the man muttered, sinking into the back.

They continued in silence for another couple of minutes, proceeding with a sure step towards the pre-established destination: the Lincoln Center, where the fundraising would be held.  
Then the limousine began to slow down.

"Damn it", the driver muttered, catching Bucky's attention.

"What's the problem?" the Avenger asked, as he opened the window a little to get a better view of what they had in front of them.

He cursed. In the middle of the street, surrounded by a couple of ambulances and a few police cars, there was a burning van.  
The vehicle had an accident on the highway, about three kilometres north of Brooklyn Bridge and just off Sixth Avenue.  
The passenger compartment was all crumpled up, a tangle of steel and aluminium sheets, deformed plastic and broken shock absorbers. The front airbags had burst, and now they dangled limp from the dashboard.

"We'll go the long way", the driver muttered bitterly, while the policeman who took care of the signs made a sign to him and to the rest of the vehicles to take a road that passed right under an upper overpass.

Needless to say, Bucky didn't like the news at all. A change of road was tantamount to an unexpected event, and he had never liked the unexpected. They only brought complications.  
Also, as they were about to cross the road bridge, he began to wonder how that van had had an accident despite the absence of other vehicles at the impact site.  
Maybe the driver was drunk ... or maybe ...

**BRRRRRRRR!  
**  
He heard a loud noise behind them. The metallic vibrations and the roar of the twelve-cylinder engine of a large truck.

He turned around but, although the noise increased every moment, he could see nothing.

"Do you hear it?" he asked, not realizing that his hands were unconsciously tight on the bag. He felt a sudden itch in his fingertips. "Something is coming".

The roar became deafening and suddenly the truck appeared above them.

Bucky raised his head just in time to see it glide over the roadway to the upper level. On the side were painted a verdant expanse with a few cows here and there, a red farmhouse and the smiling sun sticking out of the hills. The rays lit up a pair of black balls and an inscription in letters thirty centimetres high: DAY DELIVERY.

For a moment the truck darkened the earth and the sky and the writing filled Bucky's entire field of vision. Then, the huge vehicle landed to the right of the limousine, creating sparks along the asphalt.  
The driver blinked in surprise, finding himself in front of a dazzling blue sky, without clouds, without limits, with a smiling sun ...

**BANG!  
**  
The truck skidded to the side, hitting the SWAT police van and sending it crashing into a light pole. The vehicle's nose was immediately on fire, while electric cables began to stir like snakes above it.

"Oh God", the driver whispered, rolling his eyes at what he had just seen in the rear-view mirror.  
Then the limousine emerged into the main street, occupied by dozens of vehicles.

"Go faster!" Bucky shouted, as he pulled a big gun from the bag, under the frightened look of Erbert.

The driver pressed his foot on the accelerator.  
Behind them, the truck swam in the tide of taxis, a white shark making its way through the waves of a yellow and black ocean. The pigeons flew up when they heard it coming, hurtling toward the darkness of the night. The wheels jerked loudly on the remains of the vehicles that left behind.

Cletus Kasady, in the guise of Carnage, occupied the driver's seat, with a hot beer between his legs, while at the same time was turning the radio knob. The symphony passed from one band to another, but none of the tracks had succeeded in satisfying him.

"Who the fuck listen to this shit in mid-October?" he muttered in a low voice, until he found something to his liking: a song by Marylin Manson.

"Here comes the good stuff!" he exclaimed, as he increased the speed of the truck. In front of him, any vehicle that had the misfortune of being on its way was immediately thrown to the side or reduced to a crumpled pile of broken sheets and glass.

Inside the limousine, Bucky quickly grabbed the communicator and shouted: "Guys, we have a problem!"

**_"What kind of problem?"_** Carol's voice answered, visibly worried.

The super-soldier glanced quickly at the rear of the vehicle.

"A truck came out of nowhere and sent the SWAT van off the road. Now it's chasing us on ... which way is this?"

"The state highway 37!" Erbert squeaked, his hands tight on the edges of the seat.

"The state highway 37", Bucky repeated.

**_"Do you think it's Carnage?_ "** Rhodey's voice asked.

The super-soldier released a loud snort.  
"I don't know, is there someone else that want the Mayor dead?" he replied dryly.

Behind the limousine, the truck proceeded relentlessly on its advance.  
When the first police car passed a hump, Cletus had managed to sit at the edge of the window with a gun tightened at shoulder level, tilted downwards.  
Next to him, the car was at seventy, and it was accelerating. There was a pretty young guard at the wheel, with horizons of glory always in front of his eyes. Cletus would have been more than happy to show him their end.

Perhaps he noticed him, perhaps they tried to fight back. It made no difference. That car had no bullet-proof tires.  
The police vehicle exploded as if it had been filled with dynamite.

It splashed to the side like a large stubby bird and passed the roadway unchecked. It ended up against a fire hydrant, under the astonished looks and the cries of passers-by.  
The driver's side door jerked away. The driver himself hit the windshield like a torpedo and flew five meters before ending up against a shop window.

The second police car tried to get out of Cletus's trajectory, but the man still managed to centre a tire. Two bullets blew up, blood inside the vehicle.  
The car went sideways, while a cloud of smoke rose from the wheels, then rolled three times on itself, scattering fragments of glass and metal.

Cletus smiled with satisfaction as Bucky watched the entire scene from the limousine.

"Um ... we need immediate help", he said through the communicator.

**_"Don't worry, Bucky,"_** Rhodey replied. _**"The cavalry is coming."**  
_  
 _"Let's just hope it's not too late"_ , the super-soldier thought.

"You, give me a hand", he said pointing to one of the bodyguards, a bald man with a squat jaw and a well placed body.  
He nodded quickly and pulled out his pistol, with his left hand holding his right wrist. Bucky did the same with the rifle and they both leaned out of the windows: one on either side of the vehicle.

The driver stepped further on the accelerator and the limousine darted forward.  
The next moment, two sharp blows reached the truck. The windshield shattered, sprinkling the front seat with glass fragments.

Cletus didn't seem bothered at all by the thing and he also raised his own weapon. Without a barrier to stop him from taking aim, he pulled the trigger a couple of times.

The windows of the car shattered, and Erbert raised both hands to protect his face.

The vehicle darted through the gap formed between two taxis, with just a sway of the tail.  
Cletus caught a glimpse of Bucky and the bodyguard who turned to shoot again, and concentrated all his attention on the road.

They climbed a hump and heard a strange **thunn!** when the truck hit the limousine.

The car started to skid, and the driver tried to keep it straight by frantically manoeuvring the steering wheel. Vaguely, the super-soldier realized that Erbert was screaming.

"Keep driving!" he continued to rant. "Keep driving, damn it! Keep driving!"

In an attempt to sow their pursuer, the driver threw himself into the city traffic, making the slalom between the cars that proceeded slowly on a three-lane road.  
The car swerved the cars in front of him with great agility, but this was not enough to sow the truck, which continued to tail them.

Failing to distance him, the driver tried to escape by taking a small side alley, slightly wider than the truck itself. But Carnage did not let himself be surprised and, with a very sharp turn, he continued the pursuit, never letting his foot off the accelerator.

Still seeing the silhouette of the truck in the rear-view mirror, the driver tried to push the vehicle away from the alley and back, with a bend at a right angle, in another side street.  
Unfortunately, the gap between the two remained almost unchanged.

Unnerved by his opponent's tenacity, the man resumed his race on another main road, but soon found himself in front of an obstacle: a crossroads with all the lanes occupied by dozens of stationary cars. Desperate, he swerved to the right, making a long side skid with the car, and suddenly climbed onto the pavement.

Playing the horn decisively, to move the incredulous people who were witnessing that scene, the driver continued his race to the corner of the intersection, then threw himself into a less busy road.

Carnage also followed the makeshift limousine's journey, thus continuing that mad urban pursuit.

He was about to return to the centre of the road, when a red and blue blur caught his eye.

The serial killer noticed Spider-man hovering among the skyscrapers a couple of blocks back. And he was pointing straight at him.

"Oh, does Spider-Man want to play with me? All right, let's play!" the monster exclaimed, as he pressed his foot on the accelerator and swerved once more towards the pavement.

"Hey! Hey!" a tramp who was on the road limit exclaimed, caught off guard. Those were also his last words.

The truck aimed without hesitating where the crowd of passers-by concentrated, passing the dividing posts. Some tried to escape, but only those at the end of the sidewalk managed to get away. Those closest to the shops or the street had no chance. They hit the posts and the windows, tearing them to pieces, became trapped in the frenzy, clashed against each other.

The crowd moved back and forth in a series of agitated waves. The oldest and the lowest fell to the ground and were trampled by the rest of the people.

A man was violently pushed to the left, stumbled, recovered his balance and then was thrown forward. An elbow centered him on the cheekbone just below the right eye, making him see the fireworks. With the left he saw the truck emerging from the darkness.

He collapsed on his knees next to a garbage can and was repeatedly kicked while trying to get up. Then the truck came over him and reduced him to a shapeless mass on the sidewalk.

The enormous vehicle continued its progress relentlessly, crushing passers-by as if they were flies.  
It headed for a young woman, who was in the middle of the street with a baby in her arms.

Pushed by fleeing pedestrians, the poor woman fell to the ground with her daughter. She lay down on her, as if to protect her from that mechanical 8 tons monster.

She heard other people screaming, their voices almost muffled by the roar of the approaching truck. Someone gave her a terrible blow to the back of her head, but she didn't realize it.

"God, please save me", she mentally screamed. It seemed the only sensible thing to do.

The woman raised her head to see if the truck would dodge them and her view field was invaded by a huge black tire. She closed her eyes, hoping with all her heart that her daughter was sleeping.

She waited for the pain ... but this never came.

She felt herself lifted from the ground, while a pair of strong arms tightened around her.

With the wind flowing through her hair, the woman's eyes widened in surprise and she found herself staring straight into the white lenses of the Spider-Man's mask.

The vigilante landed on the other side of the road as the truck continued its run.

"Are you okay?" the Avenger asked, with a worried tone.

The woman nodded weakly.  
"Y-y ... yes. Thank you", she stammered, while the child who clutched to the chest began to get excited.

Unable to restrain himself, Peter rubbed her head reassuringly. Then he shot a web and resumed his run among the skyscrapers of New York.

* * *

**XXXX**

* * *

A little further on, the pursuit was continuing with no holds barred.  
Unable to sow the truck using agility, the limousine driver had decided to use all his vehicle's power to distance their adversary.

Taking advantage of the wide open spaces of the less busy road, the man pushed the accelerator pedal to the bottom, seeing the speedometer spatter over sixty kilometres per hour.

To Bucky's great relief, the idea seemed to work, the distance between the two vehicles was increasing by a few meters, but it was not enough to escape from that stubborn pursuer.

This did not surprise him that much, that car was not meant to run over long distances. The truck instead, yes!  
Then, the enormous vehicle seemed to charge them like a ram.

At the same time, Cletus shifted the gear and the vehicle leaped against the car, with the tires screeching on the asphalt.

The limousine driver screamed, clutching the steering wheel, not to control the vehicle but to hold on to something. The tires with the white band raised sparks and pieces of road surface, some of which bounced under the chassis. The truck lurched forward along the road, like the wagon of a crazed eight-wheeler: a hundred yards to the next intersection.

The mayor Erbert seemed to scream throughout the crossing, even though he actually stopped halfway. The scream he heard was trapped in his head.

As it approached the intersection, instead of slowing down, the truck accelerated. If any vehicles had come from either direction ... they would have been hit at seventy km per hour. But even if no one had arrived, if the truck had continued to the other side of the road, it would have ended up against a building.

There was no one on the road, and when the rear wheels touched the asphalt again, the car's steering wheel turned in the driver's hands alone, due to the sudden friction, so fast that it burned his palms and forced him to let go.

The car skidded on the road, turning ninety degrees to the right, while the truck continued to drag it in a crazy rush.

Bucky was thrown against the left-hand door, beating his head against the metal.

For a long moment, the super soldier couldn't figure out if he was hurt or not. He lay in the seats, looking at the roof of the car, while around him he could hear Erbert's screams. Through the window of the passenger side he could see the deep blue of the evening, with a plumage of clouds in the upper layers of the atmosphere.

He put a hand to his forehead and when he looked at his fingers he saw them stained with blood.

Meanwhile, the truck kept running, dragging the limousine with it. It had changed gear and was now at maximum. Above it, Peter circled among the skyscrapers of the metropolis.

The vigilante knew the streets of the area from memory and had the feeling that they were traveling along Broadway eastwards towards the Dixie Highway. Another minute and they would arrive at the intersection and ... and then what? If another direct vehicle had arrived from the north, they would have been torn to pieces. And this was exactly what happened.

A Panda came roaring from the end perpendicular to the two vehicles and clashed against the Limousine at full speed. The driver who was at the steering wheel, too surprised to be able to react in time, was not even able to put his foot on the brake and died instantly.

The impact was so violent that both cars lost control and left their respective lanes, leaving several pieces of bodywork at the crash site.

The limousine continued its long skid along the confines of the roadway, performing two consecutive spins and toppling over. At the same time, the Panda ran its course against a stone wall, destroying the radiator and shattering the front window.

The people who were in the bars and crossroads shops began to scream and scatter in all directions, while the truck - whose nose was now an unrecognizable pile of metal and vapours - stopped right in the centre of the impact site .

Inside the limousine, Bucky raised himself on one elbow. His face was a blood mask.

When he brought his hand back to his forehead, he felt a ten-centimetre cut on his skull. He felt it with his fingers, feeling the bone.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that both bodyguards were dead. One had a completely mangled face, the other threw herself on Erbert to protect him from a piece of metal. It had ended straight through her heart.  
The driver and the mayor still seemed alive, although visibly injured by the accident.

With a grunt, the super-soldier opened the door and began to crawl out of the tilted vehicle, dragging Erbert behind him. The driver tried to do the same, but found he had his legs locked by the front seats.

Once out of the vehicle, Bucky immediately checked the mayor's condition. His face was covered with cuts, his clothes torn at various points, and a bone protruded from the side of his right leg. He couldn't walk for a while.

A sound of footsteps caught his attention.

Without wasting time, the Avenger stood up and pointed his gun towards Carnage, who had left the truck and was heading towards them with a slow and confident step.

The super-soldier narrowed his eyes, taking aim and preparing to shoot. Then, the limousine behind him collapsed on itself, further trapping the driver's leg, which he started. And then he passed out.

Bucky turned his attention away from Carnage for a moment, just a moment ... and the serial killer hit him in the side with a whip made of filaments. The man was thrown against the car and lost his grip on the rifle.

Erbert drew aside with a groan of pain as Bucky's body sank into the chassis of the vehicle.

The Avenger tried to get up, but the serial killer didn't give him the chance to do it.  
He grabbed the super-soldier and with a leap he slammed him onto the roof of the Panda. The car windows exploded due to the impact force.

The creature opened its mouth bristling with teeth and flicked its forked tongue, grabbing Bucky's neck and preparing to tear off his head with a single, quick bite.

"Let him go!" someone behind him ordered, urging him to abandon his grip on the man and turn around.

Cletus smiled knowingly and pointed his white lenses at the figure that had just taken place in the middle of the street.  
"Ah, Spiderman! Kind from you to join the party, but I don't remember sending you the invitation", the creature said, with a background of macabre irony. "I'm forced to ask you to leave."

"Go right now when they are serving these delicious appetizers?" the vigilante replied, shooting a web towards one of the bars bordering the street.

The sticky substance stuck in a small table, where the panicked consumers had abandoned partially eaten foods and drinks. Then, the wall- climber threw the shelf against the serial killer.  
 **  
**Cletus used his clawing fingers to dodge the bullet to the side, just as Spiderman leaped over him and punched him in the face. Carnage's head turned slightly, baring his teeth in a grotesque smile.

In an attempt to grab the wall-climber, he made a quick rotation on himself to kick him.

Appealing to his most developed senses, Peter managed to divert him with a quick cut of his left hand. Then he proceeded to counterattack.

The fist crossed the air gap like a gun shot, clashing once again against the creature's face.  
Without wasting time, the Avenger widened both his arms and, just before the serial killer could recover from the hit, he crushed his hands around his skull, tilting his fixed joints.

Carnage leaped forward with a hiss, opening his jaws and baring his fangs. Peter stepped aside and threw another punch to make him back off. He gave two more strokes to the stomach, one in the face and two in the hips.

Finally, he kicked the superhuman in the chest, forcing him to take a leap backwards.

Sensing an impending assault, the creature sheltered with one arm, but Spiderman hit him in the elbow and broke it, then to the head, sending him crashing into the side of the limousine.

When the monster stood up again, his arm had assumed a strange angle. Unfortunately he was already healing, and the bones had just begun to recompose under the skin.  
Just ten seconds later, Carnage was back as new.

"Impressive", the serial killer commented.

Peter smiled under his mask. All those training sessions alternated with Carol, Sam, Hope and Bucky had borne fruit.

Meanwhile, the opponent's right hand had begun to change.  
The fingers that formed it began to join each other through hundreds of tiny red strands, similar to capillaries. A few seconds later, a large scarlet axe had taken the place of the limb that, until recently, had maintained vaguely human features.

"Oh God", the vigilante murmured, while Carnage smiled wickedly and threw himself forward.

Peter managed to avoid the hit and the sharp weapon stuck into the road surface, lifting bits of asphalt.  
He shot a web at the serial killer, but he merely waved his arm idly, cutting the thread in two. Then, the monster leaped toward him with a chilling cry and began to move the axe in all directions.

Spiderman was able to avoid most of the attacks, but at some point the weapon touched his chest, tearing off part of his suit and leaving him a bloody strip on his skin.

"Hey! Have I ruined your costume?" the boy said, landing on the roof of the truck with a somersault and pointing dramatically at the opponent. "Leave my clothes alone, psychopath. And this is an order!"

"Ah, but Carnage doesn't take orders from insects", the serial killer replied, with his unmistakable grin. "Carnage crushes them and sends them to hell!"

"There are many who fall into this misunderstanding. Spiders are actually arachnids ..."

He had no chance to finish the sentence.

The monster leaped upon him, forcing him to avoid another lunge.

He made a jump in the air and shot a pair of webs in the back of the opponent. He pulled hard, but he didn't move an inch. He seemed nailed to the roof of the truck.

The creature turned around, grabbing both the webs and pulling them towards him. Spiderman followed them, finishing straight against a powerful kick by the superhuman.

"You're strong, Spiderman, I'll give you this. But I'm badder!" Cletus exclaimed, while the vigilante's body tumbled heavily on the road.

He struggled to his feet and spat a trickle of blood. God, that guy beat really hard.

**Bzzzzzz!** His spider-sense began to vibrate.  
He turned sideways, while something stuck in the ground a few steps away from him: a small red harpoon, no bigger than ten centimetres.

**Bzzzzz!** Peter jumped back, avoiding another bullet. And then another, and another one.  
"Run away, run away, little spider!" Carnage exclaimed, as he continued to target the teenager.  
In an attempt to counter the assault, he grabbed the broken door of the limousine and used it as a shield. Shortly thereafter, two large harpoons crossed the metal and stopped just a couple of millimetres from the wall-climber's face.  
"Man, that was close", Peter thought with awe.

Too busy mulling over that experience of pre-death, he did not notice that Carnage was loading him like a bull.

The teenager barely had time to let go of the door. The serial killer hit him with a headboard in the chest, knocking him against the side of the limousine.

He tried to get up, but his opponent didn't give him the chance to do it. He grabbed him by the hood and hit the vehicle with the superhero's face, a total of three times.

"This will leave a mark", he commented, as he drove away the vigilante's body with a quick kick to the stomach.

Peter lay on his back, coughing loudly. That last hit had probably tilted some of his ribs. At the same time, Carnage turned his attention back to Erbert.

"Now, where were we?" he asked mockingly, as the mayor tried to move away using his arms as a lever.

Slowly, the creature returned to the truck, grabbed something crammed in the cockpit and walked up to him.

Erbert let out a strangled groan, realizing that what the serial killer held in his hands was a can of gasoline.

The man tried to get up, but Carnage put a foot on his side and turned him on his back.

He grabbed him by the collar of his jacket and brought him closer to his face, smiling wickedly. Then, the monster's mask began to dissolve, revealing the face of Cletus Kasady.

"Do you remember me?" the murderer hissed with sadistic fun.

Erbert's eyes widened in fear ... and understanding. At the same time, Carnage hit the mayor in the nose, while pressing the mouth of the canister against his forehead, as if he wanted to drill it.  
Gasoline flooded the man's face and soaked his clothes. Elbert gave a stifled cry and put his hand to his eyes.

The serial killer kicked him, turning him on his stomach. Then, he stuck his hand in his side and pulled out a small lighter from the costume.

"A tip for the afterlife, Mr. Mayor", he said with that apparently timeless grin. "Next time ... don't play with the fire!"

A few meters from the scene, Peter had managed to rest his back on the side of the limousine.

Raising his head, he saw that Carnage had stepped back and was throwing the lighter on Erbert, from which a little flame came out. The man was soon enveloped by a great blue flush, which produced a wave of heat that made the windows of the surrounding shops vibrate.

After about a minute, the mayor's screams died out. Nothing remained of him but a charred body.

Carnage burst into a chilling laugh before setting eyes on Spiderman.

"And now ...", the creature said, while his right hand turned into another sharp blade. "It's your turn!"

He took some steps towards the vigilante, preparing to finish him. However, just before he could sink the weapon into his body, a bullet of pure light struck him from the side, knocking him off several meters.

Cletus rolled on the asphalt, while Captain Marvel landed in front of him.

"Don't even try to touch him", Carol growled, her body enveloped in an intense glow and her eyes lit by red-hot flames.

Carnage stood up, baring his sharp teeth and hissing menacingly. At the same time, the woman moved into an attack position.

The serial killer looked around, evaluating his options. He was strong, of course ... but he didn't think he was still up to someone like Captain Marvel. Especially if the rest of the Avengers would have arrived soon.  
Arriving at that conclusion, the monster leaped over the destroyed vehicles and landed near a manhole. With disarming rapidity, he opened the sewer and slipped inside before Carol could realize his intentions.

The woman snapped her tongue. She could have chased him, of course, but hunting down someone hiding in the sewers of New York was the equivalent of looking for a needle in a haystack.

Without wasting time, she ran towards Peter's injured figure.

"Are you okay?" she asked with concern, as she helped the vigilante stand up.

He cough a couple of times, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

"Yes, just a little bruised. Bucky looks much worse", he muttered, pointing to the former Winter Soldier stretched out along the side of the Panda.

The Avengers couple walked up to him. He was still conscious, but he was losing a lot of blood.  
"Where is the mayor?" he whispered.

Carol glanced quickly at the politician's burned body.  
"Dead", she replied with a resigned sigh.

The super-soldier released a groan.  
"Damn it" he muttered, collapsing against the car.

Carol was about to grab the communicator ...

"Gha!" She hissed, while a stab of sudden pain gripped her stomach.

She closed her eyes, gritted her teeth and fell to her knees, under Peter's surprised look.

"Carol!" he exclaimed, appealing to his remaining forces to grab her. "Are you all right?"

The woman put her hand to her belly and took some soothing breaths.

"I ... yes, it wasn nothing ", she said after a few moments of silence.

Next to her, the vigilante looked at her unconvinced. He hadn't seen her in pain since ... well, he didn't really remember ever seeing her in pain.

Carol jerked upright, as if nothing had happened.  
" We have to call an ambulance ... and give the news"


	10. You are WHAT ?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A always, a big thank you to 1Storywriter1 !

The ducks, calm and judicious, emitted measured sounds, which merged distinctly along the shore of the pond.  
Here and there, a few fine specimens of male duck soared in the air, and with a cry streaked across the water at full speed. In doing so, they drew large semicircles on the surface.

Some curls with long legs and pointed beaks, stretching their thin mosquito legs, one after the other, hopped from ditch to ditch and with a cheerful hiss they went deeper and deeper into the grove bordering the mirror of water.  
Above them, the glass cover of the room was the only evidence that the garden was anything but natural. It was in fact a botanical project devised by Oscorp Industries, which consisted of creating a fully functioning ecosystem within an urban building.

Norman Osborn often came to this area to relax and brood, but today not even the sunny breeze induced by the complex's artificial ventilation systems could soothe the irritation he was feeling at that very moment.

"Let me tell you a few things about the American market, Joe", the man said abruptly, with his right hand holding a cell phone attached to his ear. "Cigarette manufacturers ... listen to me ... cigarette manufacturers put addictive quantities of nicotine into smokers for decades before anyone noticed. And when the US government made a move ... well, it was too late! The whole world was dependent on nicotine. So don't try to tell me it's against the law to add the whatever we want in our products. If I consider it appropriate ..."

He stopped abruptly and frowned.

"So what? Deny, deny, deny!" he exclaimed after a few moments of silence.  
Then he opened his eyes wide and stared intently at the screen of the device.

"Son of a bitch", he muttered with a low voice.

Sable raised an eyebrow. "Sir?"

"He put me on hold. Unbelievable", Osborn growled angrily, then threw his cell phone into the pond.

Next to him, the woman refrained from sighing. Typical of Norman Osborn, when things didn't go according to plan he looked like a wolf ready to leap to the throat of the first animal that had come within his range.

The billionaire took a couple of soothing breaths and turned his attention to the assistant.

"Is something bothering you?" he asked after noticing that she was staring at him.

Sable shifted uncomfortably at the tip of her heels.  
"I was thinking about the Kasady situation, sir. Shouldn't we deal with it before it can compromise Oscorp's security?"

"And how can we deal with it? We have nothing that can stand up to that monster, thanks to Octavius", the man muttered bitterly. "How is he, by the way?"

"Still in a coma", the woman replied, causing a curse by Norman.

"Damn it. His work is crucial for our operation", he said, bringing a hand to his forehead and holding back a groan.

Sable looked at him expectantly.

"Sir ... about Kasady?" she asked after almost a minute of silence.

The man seemed to mull over the matter. "The Avengers will take care of him."  
 **  
**"And what if Kasady should talk once he's taken into custody?" the woman objected, squeezing both eyelids.

In response, Norman merely gave her an impassive look.

"Then you'll take care of him…personally."

* * *

**XXXX**

* * *

Carol slowly opened her eyes, holding back a groan due to the sudden light that filtered through the bedroom window.

Last night she felt rather strange, as heavy and completely listless. In reality it was at least a couple of days that she felt listless in everything, she was perpetually tired and apathetic, and this was not like her.

Puffing she got up from the bed, but a big dizziness forced her to settle back on the mattress. Maybe she was sick. She hoped strongly not, considering what she and the rest of the Avengers would be forced to face after their last fight with Carnage.  
She could already feel the entire city of New York blaming them for the death of the mayor and all the damage done to the metropolis. It was practically a practice when it came to certain circumstances.

Slowly she went into the kitchen to make coffee, but when she opened the jar and smelled it she was forced to close it immediately. It was as if the thought of drinking it made her sick. All this was not normal, not for someone like her who, since she had returned to Earth, lived with a cup of coffee attached to her hand.  
Had the food she had eaten last night before going to sleep caused her indigestion?  
 **  
**She simply ate three chocolate chip cookies, though she sent them down with great difficulty. She didn't want to eat today at all.  
Ok, the thing was starting to get really worrying.

After about half an hour of mulling, she put on her flip-flops in a hurry and took her wallet. Then, with a quick step, she went down to the street and headed for the nearest pharmacy.  
Maybe they would be able to tell her what the hell was wrong with her.

* * *

**XXXX**

* * *

**"Carnage strikes again! Dozens of victims."**  
 **"The damage to the city is enormous."**  
 **"The police groping in the dark."**  
 **"Where are the Avengers?"**  
 **"Mayor James Erbert is dead!"**  
 **"The Avengers are responsible for what happened!"  
**  
Peter Parker released a sigh as he ran through the various titles that stood out on the screen of his cell phone, all of which related to the events that occurred the night before. Apparently, the city had already begun to blame the Avengers for Erbert's death, as well as all the damage that Carnage had done to the metropolis.

"Why doesn't it surprise me?" he muttered ironically to himself.

A knock on the door took him away from those thoughts.  
He just looked around as his aunt May entered the room holding a steaming cup in her hands.

"I made you some hot chocolate", she said with a smile, as she approached the bed and sat next to him.

The vigilante smiled in turn, grabbing the drink with a nod of thanks. The usual May, always ready to cheer him up, no matter the gravity of the situation.

_"Happy, you better keep her close"_ , he thought with an ironic grin.

At first he had been a little hesitant to accept the relationship between his aunt and Tony's former assistant, but after a few months he had come to the conclusion that the woman deserved to be as happy as he used to be. It was what Uncle Ben wanted, in his heart he knew it well. And then ... who was he to judge, when he was dating a woman who in retrospect had at least three times his earth years?

"I saw what happened on the news", May continued, with a visibly worried tone. "Are you okay?"

Peter took a quick gulp of chocolate and released a tired sigh.

"Yes, I ... I think so", he replied after a few moments of silence.

The woman smiled sympathetically and put her hand on his shoulder. "It wasn't your fault."

The vigilante looked at her shyly.  
"I know", he admitted reluctantly, almost as if he were trying to convince himself. "But ... it's hard every time. When you can't save someone, you know?"

He slumped against the pillow of the bed, his face adorned with a much sadder expression.  
"I can't help but think back to Mr. Stark. When he ..."

He stopped abruptly. "When he sacrificed himself to save us", he wanted to say, but he couldn't. Even after two years, he couldn't help but feel a pang in his heart every time he thought about it. The body of Mr. Stark completely battered, partly burned, the tired yet satisfied smile, of who had accomplished what he wanted to do from the beginning. He remembered Pepper crying ... the smell of blood and ash mixed together on that battlefield where the fate of the whole universe had been decided.

He shook his head to free himself from those memories and looked back at May with a shy smile.

"Anyway, Carol and the others have helped me overcome this. By now I understood it, I can't save everyone", he said with a shrug.

The woman gently stroked his cheek. "I'm glad you have people you can count on."

"Me too", he replied, giving her a quick hug.

They remained clinging for nearly a minute. When that time came to an end, May broke off and lovingly ruffled his hair.

"Don't go to sleep too late", she ordered with a mischievous tone.

The teenager rolled his eyes as the woman emerged from the room.  
Once she was gone, Peter was quiet for some minutes. He drank the last sips of chocolate, put the cup on the nightstand next to his bed and put his knees under his chin, assuming a contemplative position.

He stood still and motionless, his eyes narrowed in deep concentration. Then, he grabbed a small earphone from the drawer of the bedside table and put it to his ear.

"Karen?"

"Yes, Peter?" the artificial intelligence's voice answered quickly and concisely.

The vigilante smile satisfied and said: "Perform a cross-analysis of these files. I want you to tell me whatever James Erbert and Vernon Claridge had in common."

* * *

**XXXX**

* * *

Carol Danvers was slumped on the living room sofa, her face adorned with an empty expression, as if she were in a catatonic state. She had dull eyes, lips closed in a thin line and hair falling on her forehead, obscuring part of her face.  
In her right hand, which hung lifelessly over the edge of the cushions, she held a small white plastic rod.

The door bell rang a couple of times.

Slowly, with almost mechanical movements, the woman looked up.  
She stood still for about a minute. Then, when the intercom rang a second time, she sighed wearily and walked to the door.  
She didn't even ask who was ringing. She simply took a long breath ... and opened the door.

She gasped as her eyes rested on the smiling face of Peter Parker.

"I think I found something."

"Peter..."

Without giving her time to continue, the teenager overcame her with a leap and entered the apartment.

"I spent the last three hours reading these files on Claridge and Erbert. I kept asking myself, 'why did Carnage choose them as victims?'" He said as he pulled a holographic tablet from under his jacket. "In the beginning it seemed a purely causal choice, but then I thought ... what if there was a connection between the two?"

He began to slide several items on the device screen, while Carol stared at him impassively.

"So I started looking, and guess what I found out? Boom!" he exclaimed, while the image of a man with sharp features and red hair materialized on the tablet. "Both were involved in the trial and imprisonment of this person: Cletus Kasady, a serial killer who terrorized New York between 2009 and 2011, escaped from prison about a month before Carnage's first public appearance."

He lowered the device and gave Carol a satisfied grin. However, the woman gave no visible reaction. She simply stood there staring at him, as if trying to peer directly into his own soul.

The vigilante shifted uncomfortably at the tip of his heels.

"Rhodey told us about him the day before we attacked the Hydra base. The one in which we found the girl", he continued, reaching the conclusion that perhaps he should provide more information. "Claridge was the judge who took care of Kasady's legal process, while Erbert was the district attorney who at the time led the charge against him. Of course, it could only be a coincidence, so I did some other research. And I found out that Kasady's former cellmate, Jack Crafford, was found dead in his apartment two days after his escape."

He raised the device once more, to allow Carol to see the newspaper article that had provided the news. After that, he raised a finger to the ceiling and proudly proclaimed: "I think Cletus Kasady has somehow become Carnage. And I think he wants revenge on everyone he considers responsible for his imprisonment..."

"I'm pregnant."

**Tung!  
**  
Peter dropped the tablet on the floor of the room.

Time seemed to stop. An inexorable silence seemed to fall on the couple, while the boy's body jerked up, as if pervaded by a sudden shock.  
Carol closed her eyes, clutching both hands in tight fists.

Fuck. And now? What should she have done? To cry? To laugh? To scream?

How many times she had looked at that damn test. How could such a small thing completely upset her life?  
She had checked the instructions over and over again, hoping she'd missed a few passages in which they said that those contraptions were totally unreliable, that they had little accuracy, that they didn't work if it was too cold, that the first time it was always uncertain ... she didn't even know what she was looking for, maybe something that could give her any hope. **  
**No, those stupid things seemed perfect, they were never wrong, they even had the display with the number of weeks. Damn!

She had leaned against the wall and started to slide down, aware that she was losing consciousness.  
When she had bought them again, a few minutes later, it all seemed like a bad dream.

Her, Carol Danvers, the most famous superhero in the entire universe ... was waiting for a child, a little creature.

She had jumped up and gone out of the bathroom, looking at the apartment - as always empty - flooded by the sun of that warm October afternoon.

She had walked slowly to the couch, her head clouded. "How will I tell Peter?" It was the first thought that had crossed her mind.

Of course he was the father, of this she was more than sure ... but he was still so young, little more than a boy. How could she even hope that he would take care of a child? Probably, as soon as she would have told him, he would have run away and he wouldn't show up again. But she would have understood, she would have fled too, if she hadn't had it in her belly.

She opened her eyes, discovering that Peter had stood still in front of her, his pupils dilated and his mouth slightly wide open. HE looked like a deer caught in the headlights of a car.

"But... you said...", he whispered, after what seemed like an interminable time. "You said you couldn't have children."

"I also said that I had never tried to have any", Carol replied, sitting on the sofa and putting a hand to her forehead, in an attempt to fight an impending headache.

Reality hit her again like a brick wall.  
God, she was pregnant. She was expecting a baby! In about eight months he would arrive and she had no idea how to behave.

That damn test was positive. How could she have been so unlucky to have sex with a human being for the first time in decades and get pregnant? What's more, she could no longer drink coffee. Only the thought bothered her beyond belief.

And then the strange cravings would come. She probably would have started putting the cream in the salad like her old friend Maria did when she got pregnant with her daughter Lucy. It was an absurd mess, and yet she found it delicious.

The only positive note was that for now she didn't have the classic pregnancy nausea. Yes, sometimes certain smells had turned her stomach, but nothing so tragic.

"I know you're not ready for this, I understand it. I ... I would feel like you too", she said after a few moments of silence, looking up at Peter.

He met her eyes and winced, as if was seeing her for the first time since they had started that conversation.  
He couldn't believe his ears. She couldn't be serious! His first thought was: "Tell me I didn't really get her pregnant or I'll shoot myself."

Him ... with a child? When he was just eighteen? No, no, no and no! He couldn't accept such a thing! He didn't even know if he wanted children in the future!

It frightened him that Carol seemed too sincere. Or she was a great liar... or she was telling the pure and simple truth. She was really pregnant.  
He ... was expecting a child. A child by the woman he had fallen in love with. Him ... a father? Impossible. He was just a teenager! He still went to school, for God's sake!

How could he balance his life as a superhero with such a thing? How would other people react? His friends, his schoolmates, the teachers ... the Avengers? What would his aunt thought?

And Carol? Would she be in trouble because of this thing? And above all, did she really want ... to have a child with him? Growing him up, loving him like a family ... it was a perspective that had never crossed his mind.

He closed his eyes, taking a couple of soothing breaths.

"Wow", he muttered as he felt his head begin to turn. "And I thought you wanted to go slow."

"I did", she said, sinking in the back of the sofa and looking up at the ceiling.

Peter swallowed and ran a hand through his hair.

"This is ... big. It's really, REALLY ... big", he whispered, as if he were still trying to metabolize the news.

Carol felt her stomach tighten.

"We had to be more careful", she said through clenched teeth.

Meanwhile, Peter had begun to wander around the room.

He stopped on the other side of the sofa and began tapping the fingers of his right hand on the back. "I know it could sound crazy …""  
"I don't blame you."  
"… but I think I wanted it to happen", the boy ended.

Needless to say, the woman found herself unable to hold back a shock of pure surprise.

"What?" she snapped, turning abruptly in the direction of her companion with her eyes wide open in disbelief.

Had she ... had she heard it right? She didn't think she had imagined it, but she had to be sure.

Peter pursed his lips in a shy smile. "We both know, neither of us wants to move this relationship forward due to inertia. But this…this is anything but inertia. I mean…now we are on a roller coaster!"

"Oh God", the blonde muttered, lowering her head and holding back a sob.

The vigilante started, visibly alarmed by his partner's reaction.

"No, no, no, no!" he said quickly, running up to her and squatting to meet his eyes.

"Not "Oh God", this ... this is a beautiful thing!" he said with a smile that could have light up the whole room.

Carol met his gaze, totally unable to believe what was happening. She was living a dream ... or maybe a nightmare? She wasn't quite sure yet.

"The story about the roller coaster was not the best idea, but having a child with you ... is not in bad idea at all!" Peter resumed. "I mean ... that's not what I mean ..."

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then, he grabbed Carol's face and stared at her intently.

"I'm excited! I want to be your father."

"... What?" the woman asked, raising an eyebrow.

The vigilante released a frustrated sigh.

"No, I ... I want to be A father. I want to be a father with you as a mother, and this is important, that you will be a mother", he continued, then kissed her on the forehead.

Carol blushed at the action as her companion began to caress her hair.

"I ... God, I hope he'll look like you. Really, I hope he'll look like you", he said with a weak voice, putting in those words all the affection he felt for the woman who had stolen his heart. "A little boy with blonde hair, or a little girl with blond hair or ... with hair of any colour."

Carol felt her heart beat faster, as her eyes began to moisten. But having immediately remembered that this could harm the child, she forced herself and, ignoring the sense of guilt she felt at that moment, she laughed to herself and managed to hold back the tears.

Never so clearly as now, after the house had seemed so empty and quiet, she had felt that she was not alone, that someone else lived in her, unknown, infinitely dear to her but nevertheless an incomprehensible being. In time he would live, he would grow up and even start moving, turning softly inside her.

For this pleasant and strange sensation, her whole organism filled with a particular sense of fear mixed with joy.

"You're only eighteen", she said with a sad smile.

In response, the vigilante merely shrugged.

"I am aware of it", he offered with a small grin.

The woman released a tired sigh. "Your aunt will kill me."

"Nhaaa, she would never risk hurting the child. But she could try to castrate me", Peter said, simulating a shiver of fear.

Carol chuckled, then wrapped the boy in a warm hug.

"You really are an idiot, Peter Parker."

* * *


	11. Hurt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You'll probably hate me after this chapter.  
> As always, a big thank you to 1Storywriter1!

**2 Years Before :**

The New York cemetery was immersed in the darkness of a cold September day, barely illuminated by the golden light that filtered through the storm clouds and rain-laden.

Peter Parker, better known to the general public as the amazing Spiderman, stood still and motionless in front of Tony Stark's headstone.  
A melancholy smile lifted his lips and, with a brusque gesture, he pushed away some tears that had begun to streak his cheeks.

In the days following the man's death, his teachers and classmates had noticed the unusual sadness on his face, asking him questions he couldn't answer.  
Of course, he had felt touched by their attempts to comfort him, but at that moment his heart required concentration and solitude. Not even Ned and his aunt had been able to help him.

To make things worse, half of the New York newspapers had begun to attack him a few months after his return on the streets. There were those who called him a cheap copy of Iron Man, a vigilante operating outside the law, or his favourite: a masked menace, as he was amicably addressed by James Jonah Jameson, the editor of the Daily Bugle.  
For this reason, like every day since Tony's sacrifice, he had gone to that tombstone to remember the times he had spent with the man who had changed his life, his eyes pointed towards the sky and his face wet from the rain.

"Hello", a female voice called him from behind, making him wince.

Peter just turned his head to meet that person's eyes ... and froze.  
In front of him there was a woman with short blond hair, and strong and solemn features, dressed in a black coat. In her right hand she held an umbrella of the same colour, which protected her from the rain.

_"Hey, Peter Parker. You got something for me?"_ was the first thought that crossed the boy's mind.  
The same exact words that person had been addressed to him in their first meeting, when she had saved him from the rain of fire that Thanos had unleashed on the Avengers.

There was no doubt: this was the woman who, like a comet made of pure light, had descended from the sky to take down that monster's ship.

"What are you doing here in the rain? You'll end up catching a cold", she said, in a visibly worried tone.

In other circumstances Peter would probably have blushed ... but at that moment he didn't have the strength to do even that.

"I don't care", he answered impassively.

They were silent for nearly a minute. Then, the woman slowly approached him and covered him with the umbrella, giving him a gentle smile.

"I just realized that I never told you my name. I'm Carol Danvers, nice to meet you", she said holding out her right hand.

The vigilante looked down at the stretched limb, mulling over what would be his next move.

"… Peter Parker", he muttered after a moment of silence, returning the gesture.

The smile on Carol's face seemed to widen.  
"It's nice to meet you formally, Peter Parker", she said briskly. And, unexpectedly, the boy found himself partially infected by that solar expression.

"Why are you here, Miss Danvers?" he asked with a shy smile.

The woman chuckled.  
"Call me Carol, after all we are colleagues. And I'm here to pay my respects", she revealed, pulling something out of her coat pocket. It was a white narcissus, with immaculate petals, which the blonde placed delicately on Stark's grave.

Almost like a signal, the look on the boy's face suddenly became grim, which didn't go unnoticed by the superheroine.  
With uncertain movements, she wrapped one arm around the shoulders of the vigilante and brought him closer to herself as he rested his head on her shoulder. And they remained in that position for what seemed an interminable time, accompanied only by the roar of the rain.

"Do you know why so many New Yorkers dream to live outside the city?" Peter asked suddenly.

Next to him, Carol sent him a curious look, which prompted the teenager to continue.

"Because New York is a shitty place", he said with a de facto tone, surprising the woman. She didn't think he was the guy who liked to swear.

"People born here with their dreams, their ambitions ... and the city immediately puts them in line with its imperturbable stone eye. An eye that reveals all our faults, all our fears about ourselves ... and then tells us: Try to fight back. I dare you!" Peter continued with an ironic tone.  
"And then, it looks down on us. No other city in the world more than this tries to hinder you in every way, tries pushing you to throw in the towel, to leave ... to give up. But I never gave up, no! Because I thought that ... that if I had lived up to the challenge they had set me, if I had been brave and would have gone through the flames ... I would have come out changed…as the hero that everyone wanted me to be. But I'm not a hero. I ... I'm afraid", he whispered, before straightening his head.

He raised a fist in the direction of the sky and took a deep breath.  
"I'm afraid, are you happy?! Did you want the truth?! Did you want to humiliate me?! All right, I'm afraid! For the first time in my life I'm afraid! I'm afraid to disappoint Mr. Stark's memory! And I'm afraid of losing other people I care about!"

Still standing next to the vigilante, Carol tilted her head slightly. "I'm afraid too. There is nothing wrong with being afraid."

In response, Peter gave her a dirty look. "No?! Well, for me, yes!"

"And why? Aren't you a human being?" she asked, using a mocking tone of voice.

The boy squeezed both hands in clenched fists.  
"I only know one thing: that I'm weak. And that's why Tony is gone!"

On hearing these words, the superheroine's eye seemed to light up.  
"Ah, now I understand everything!" she exclaimed, pointing a finger at the boy's chest.

"You allowed the first fool who came to tell you that you weren't good. The difficulties have grown, you have looked for the culprit and found it in a shadow. Well, now I'll tell you something obvious: look, the world is not a bed of roses. It's a miserable and dirty place ... and no matter how strong you are, if you let it put you on your knees it will leave you with nothing!Neither me nor you, no one can hit as hard as life does. But it's not important the way you hit, no, the important thing is that you know how to resist the blows and if you have the strength to get up when you end on the ground!" she continued, causing a little jolt by the adolescent. He looked away, seemed almost guilty.

The woman released a sigh and began to stare at the immense hill of green covered with gravestones.

"You know ..." she began with a nostalgic tone **,** "There was a boy who lived in my street at Harpswell Sound, his name was Louis Lee. He always ran away from home and always came to our house, for no good reason. His father didn't beat him and he was always well dressed. The Lees had more money than most normal people, but he ran away from home at least once a month and came straight to our house. Well, usually my father called his mother and she came to get him back. But at the ninth or tenth time that he did, Louis ran outside, climbed up a tree behind the house and refused to go down for any reason. Then my father said to him: 'Listen, why don't you leave him with us for a while until he wants to go home?'"

She stopped abruptly, then chuckled.

"Seriously, that boy was really stubborn! Evening came and he was still up there, without food, without water, without a bath. And just before I went to bed I looked out the window and heard him cry, and so I said to him: 'Louis, why don't you come down?' And he, shaking his head: 'No'. The next morning I woke up, looked out the window and Louis was still on the tree. So, after breakfast, I went out with a plate of eggs. I asked him if he wanted some, but he kept shaking his head. Then I got angry. That boy had a nice house, a nice family, the kind that I would have killed to have when I was a little younger than him ... and he didn't realize it. And so I went to the tool shed and took an axe. Then I said to Louis: 'Do you want to see what it's like to live in my house?' And I hit that tree with the axe!" she said proudly, under the incredulous gaze of Peter.  
"Louis screamed, but I continued. I've never heard anyone scream like he did while I hit that tree. Eh, Louis had pissed himself and the drops were raining on my head, but I didn't even notice. I just thought about hitting. Well, not long afterwards, Louis jumped down and ran to his house. He just needed ... the right motivation", she finished, as she turned to observe the adolescent's reaction.

He had heard the story of the blonde from beginning to end.

He remained silent, trying to find the right words to argue. In the end, he decided to ask a question.

"And what could my motivation be?" he asked, his eyes fixed in the direction of the tombstone that was a few steps away from them.

"It's not my task to choose what you are going to fight for", she said, surprising the boy once again.

After saying that, Carol put her right hand on the young man's shoulder and he, though tempted, decided not to retreat.  
"You didn't make him do anything, Peter. Tony Stark was an adult, and he did what he decided to do. And you have no right to feel guilty about what happened to him. You are a survivor and you did what you had to do, you did what Fury, the Avengers and everyone else thought you should do. But it doesn't matter what they expect from you, because you are the one who carries this fear, the terror that everyone will rob you of the happiness you have long sought, the terror of being remembered as a coward. Well this isn't true, but it doesn't matter if I tell you, it doesn't matter, because you have to overcome this. Get rid of it, because only then, when all the smoke has cleared up, and people have finished shouting your name ... only then will you be able to do amazing things."

In front of her, Peter could not help but gasp. He felt violated, humiliated, as if that woman had managed to look straight through his own soul. And yet, he had never felt so in tune with someone as in that precise moment.

Then, Carol released a tired sigh.

"I've been a superhero for almost thirty years, Peter. And do you know what I've learned, after all this time? It's impossible to save everyone. It doesn't matter how much you want it", she said with a distant voice, her gaze apparently lost in a distant memory.  
"But I also learned what Captain Marvel ... The idea of Captain Marvel means for so many people in the Universe", she reluctantly admitted. "I am the woman who comes from the sky and helps people. If I'm there, everything will be fine. And everyone…everyone is convinced of that."

She curled up both lips in a sad smile.  
"The thing scares me, you know? I am afraid of this thing that everyone believes, the unassailable truth. 'No, she can't be everywhere, but if she intervenes for me, I'll be safe.' Yet when the time came to save half of the universe from Thanos ... Captain Marvel disappointed everyone. So believe me, I know how you feel", she whispered, while tears started to come out of Peter's eyes.  
 **  
**With a maternal touch, Carol ran a thumb over the boy's face, wiping his cheeks.

"Since you received these powers, you've surely made mistakes", the woman continued, "but it's not necessarily a bad thing. Those errors indicate a path. They make us what we are. And if anyone is destined for great things ... well, that's you, kid. You have to give the world your gifts. It's just about knowing how to use them. And know that, wherever this path will take you... me and the Avengers will always be there for you. You can count on it."

* * *

**XXXX**

* * *

**Present :**

Peter closed his eyes as he thought back to that moment that now seemed so far away. The moment when he began to become aware of the affection he felt for that woman. The moment when he began to fall in love with her.  
And look where those feelings brought him.

Despite his attempts to reassure her, he still struggled to believe what Carol had revealed to him the day before. The fact that she was pregnant ... and in exactly nine months he would become a father.

What would happen to his life? To their reputation as superheroes?

Clearly he hadn't told anyone yet, the risk was too big. Maybe he could have told MJ to get a female opinion, but…well **,** he needed good advice, moral support, and in certain situations that girl was not particularly reliable.

Currently, the wall-climber was quietly brooding in the bed, he didn't even have the strength to go down and have breakfast.  
The only positive note was that his aunt was already out working, so he wouldn't have crossed her. If she looked into his eyes she would know instantly that something was bothering him. It was rare, in fact, that he could lie to her. He didn't know how, but she always managed to unmask him.

"Peter? Peter? Hey, man, are you there?" someone shouted from the other side of the door. "You're not naked, are you? Can I come in?"

"No I'm not naked, Ned!" the boy moaned, instantly recognizing the voice of his best friend.  
Damn, he still cursed the day he gave him a copy of the entrance keys. He always came during the least opportune moments!

While he engaged in a long series of mental curses, a boy with a robust build and Asian features entered the room.

"Don't you think it's time to get up?" he said with a teasing tone, sitting on the bed.

"Don't you think it's time to shut up?" the vigilante replied impassively.

Ned raised an eyebrow.  
"Did you wake up from the wrong side of the bed?"

"Sorry", Peter muttered. "I only had a heavy week."

"What's wrong? Did a girl refuse you?" The schoolmate teased him.

"No, I wish it was just that", said with a half smile, even if Ned didn't miss the resigned tone with which he answered him.

"Come on, tell me", he ordered, putting his legs crossed on the bed.

Peter gave him a side look.  
"I can't, mate. Really, not this time", he replied impassively.

The schoolmate just rolled his eyes.  
"Peter, you can tell me everything, you know I'm not a spy", he said with a de facto tone.

The vigilante collapsed on the mattress.  
And now what should he have done? Confess everything to him? He knew he could trust him, he would never spill anything to anyone, but just admitting that this was real still scared him to death. A child changes everything ... really everything. And he still wasn't sure if he was ready to take care of another human being.

"So? Come on, whatever you've done can definitely be solved", Ned added.

Peter took a deep breath.  
"I got a girl pregnant", he spat out with one single breath. And for a moment, he felt much better after finally confessing it to someone.

"Wait ... what?!" Ned shouted incredulously, with his jaw that almost touched the ground."Tell me you are not so stupid that you did not take precautions!"  
 **  
**"Please don't scream", the vigilante admonished him.

"Peter! Damn! I thought you had a minimum of brain", the schoolmate continued with a lower voice.

"I didn't tell you so you could yell at me like Aunt May would", the Avenger snorted.

Ned seemed completely unable to find the right words to argue.  
"Are you at least sure it's not a lie? Are you sure this baby is…yours?" he asked after a minute of silence.

The vigilante nodded quickly. "Believe me, I know her well. She would never lie to me about something like this."

"I don't know what to say ... Did you discuss this with this girl?"

Peter peered at him uneasily.  
"Yes ... and we decided to keep him. Today we are going to do the ultrasound", he said after a few moments of silence.

Ned's eyes widened in surprise.  
"Wow, it's really a big responsibility. Um ... congratulations? I'm proud of you, mate."

"It's still a big mess", the vigilante sighed, lowering his head.

" Yes, it is. But know that I'm here if you need advice", Ned smiled, receiving an incredulous look from the Avenger.

"And what advice could you ever give me for such a situation?"

"Hey, I've seen a lot of movies about the subject! I know how certain things go", the schoolmate said, with a proud smile.

Despite his best judgment, Peter found himself chuckling. Typical of that boy, he always managed to cheer his mood.

"Thanks", he told him, raising a fist and waiting for the other to hit him.

Wasting no time, Ned returned the gesture.  
And for the first time since Carol had given him the good news, Peter felt a sense of comfort. At least, he could claim not to be completely left to himself.

* * *

**XXXX**

* * *

Peter went under the Stark Tower at 15:00 o'clock, where Carol quietly awaited him with a helmet in her hands.

"How do you feel?" was the first thing he asked her, once the bike was parked.

The woman stared at him amused.  
"A little tired and bored, but I can't really complain", she replied with a placid smile. "And you?"

"I admit to being nervous. And if something happened during the procedure ..."

"Hey", she stopped him, stroking his cheek reassuringly. "Don't worry, it's nothing. Juts a quick check."

The teenager nodded slowly, then motioned for her to take a seat on his motorbike.

They arrived at the clinic just in time for the appointment.

To avoid possible uncomfortable questions, discussions or misunderstandings, Carol asked the vigilante to wait for her in the waiting room.  
Despite not being very comfortable with the idea of leaving her alone, Peter reluctantly agreed. He regretted it after about half an hour.  
After that time, in fact, the teenager had begun to freak out. He walked up and down the hall without stopping, going around those four walls as if they were an impassable cage.

He was very nervous and it didn't go unnoticed by the other occupants.  
Carol had asked him to go together to the medical examination shortly after their discussion and at the time he was enthusiastic about it, he was calm and relaxed, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.  
But now he was beginning to realize that he would soon see pictures of the baby. Of ... of his son. Or daughter, although he strongly doubted that the doctors would be able to identify the sex at this stage of development.

This thing scared him to death, because he knew it would make it a hundred percent real. He felt vulnerable and exposed, like never before.  
He would have liked to talk to May about it, but he knew he wasn't ready to deal with her yet.

Trying to calm down, he took a few deep breaths and sat back, waiting.

"You can do it, Parker. You faced worse", he murmured to himself, with renewed determination.

Another five minutes passed. To his great relief, Peter saw Carol crossing the doors of the room.

The teenager ran up and walked to her, his face adorned with a smile full of expectation. However, that expression was very short-lived.

Once in front of her, he realized that the woman's eyes were on the floor, her shoulders lowered and part of her hair falling in front of her face like a sort of veil.

The boy's thoughts were promptly crossed by a horrible presentiment.

Carol raised her head, meeting the gaze of the wall-climber.  
"I'm not pregnant", she whispered with a low voice.

Peter's heart skipped a beat, as he felt a cold and distressing grasp make his way into his body.

"It was ... an ectopic pregnancy. The doctor said that the explanations can be many, and not necessarily related to my physiology", the woman continued, using a tone of voice devoid of any emotion. "Apparently it's something that happens quite frequently. The embryo is formed but stabilizes in the fallopian tubes rather than in the uterus. A nice rip-off, isn't it?"

In front of her, the vigilante stood still and motionless, unable to perform even the slightest movement.  
He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times ... but nothing. He ... really didn't know what to say.

He stretched out his right hand and placed it gently on the blonde's shoulder.  
"Carol, I …"

He didn't have the chance to finish the sentence.

The superheroine snatched his arm away with a snarl. Then, she proceeded to pass him and to walk quickly up to the clinic exit.

"Carol ... Carol ... Carol!" the vigilante called her. The woman gave no sign of having heard him and went on relentlessly among the crowd of pedestrians, pushing some aside.

Ignoring the curses and protests of passers-by, she went into an alley bordering the building. Peter followed her.

The woman stopped in the middle of the driveway, turned her head towards him ... and the teenager froze **.**  
Her face was wet with tears, locked in an expression of anger mixed with despair.

"I knew all this was crazy!" the woman screamed, making the boy jump. "I mean, what did we expect, anyway? You are so ... young. God, you live with your aunt, technically you work for me, and I was thinking of having a baby with you!? What is happening?!"

Peter swallowed with difficulty, trying to ignore the sudden twinge that gripped his stomach.  
"Do you really need to know? Can't we find out?" the boy offered, with a wobbly smile.

Carol narrowed her eyes and walked up to him, pointing a finger at his chest.  
"You say this just because you're living an illusion", she hissed through clenched teeth.

The vigilante's eyes widened. "Why is it an illusion?"

"Because you are 18 years old!" Carol replied, with an exasperated tone. "You get drunk with half a glass of wine, you still play with legos ... And you read Harry Potter whenever you have time left!"

"Many adults read Harry Potter!" the boy protested, raising both hands in a conciliatory gesture.

The woman released an angry growl and slammed her foot violently against the asphalt, creating small cracks and shaking the walls of the alley.  
Alarmed, Peter quickly took a step back, while the heroine took a couple of soothing breaths.

"Listen, I ... I appreciate the fact that you think it might work. More than you can imagine, I assure you", she said after a moment of silence. "You ... you are a wonderful person. A very special person."

"What's the point ?!" the teenager exclaimed, visibly frustrated.

Carol put her hand to her forehead.  
"What I want to say is…that someone like you should not be with someone like me. A woman with three times your age who would spend 90% of her time away from the planet."

"You don't mind age" Peter growled, with a sudden surge of irritation.

Surprised by that aggressive reaction, the blonde turned her face into an angry expression. "Yes, actually. I'm an old woman who minds age!"

"Don't treat me like a baby!" the boy shouted, making her wince. "I still live with my aunt, and I get drunk with half a glass of wine, and yes, maybe I'm living in an illusion, but I am not a complete idiot!"

Silence. A dark and heavy quiet seemed to fall into the depths of the alley.

Carol stared at the teenager with wide eyes as he approached her and laid his hands on his shoulders.

"I know how I feel about you. _You_ don't know how you feel about me", he whispered with a smile. "I only hope that you have the courage to understand it."

The woman closed her eyes, feeling that the tears had started to roll down her cheeks.  
Then, slowly, almost hesitantly, she raised her right hand and used it to gently cuddle the boy's face.

"You mean a lot for me ... but it doesn't make sense. I mean ... what future could we ever have?" she said with a choked voice.

Peter's grip became more insistent. "Don't talk like that. I love you."  
"I'm sorry ..."  
"I love you", the boy repeated.

Carol looked down. How long had she been waiting for someone to say those words to her without second thoughts in mind? Here they were, she had finally uttered them, but Carol felt crushed by their ironic untimeliness.  
 _ **  
**"I have to do it ... It's better for both."  
_  
"I'm sorry"

It was then that Peter's eyes also began to moisten.

"Carol ... please don't do it. You're angry, I understand, but please ... don't do it", he said with a low voice, making the woman's heart sink.

She closed her eyes again ... and took a few steps back, freeing herself from the vigilante's grip.  
Peter immediately felt as if an unknown force was trying to crush him to the ground.

The blonde pressed the surface of the bracelet on her wrist. Within seconds, the clothes she was wearing were replaced by the red and blue uniform of Captain Marvel.

She opened her eyes and stared at Peter with a sad smile.  
"Do you know what I will miss most of all this? You ... and your friendship."

And, after having uttered these words, she threw herself over the roofs of the alley and flight away, leaving behind the motionless figure of the wall-climber.

Peter made no attempt to follow her. He knew he would never be able to reach her, and then ... what sense would it have?  
It was over. And the worst thing? Carol was probably right.  
About him, about them ... about everything that had happened since that night. For two months he had lived in the illusion that such a relationship could have lasted unimpeded.  
He had been naive. Naive and hasty. They should have taken things more slowly.

And it was selfish of him to ask Carol to get involved in something like that. What could he ever offer her? He was just a kid. A little boy who played the hero, and nothing else.

"Yeah ... just a kid", he whispered to himself, while bitter tears began to streak his cheeks.

He remained in that alley alone for almost ten minutes. After that time, he quickly wiped his face with the sleeve of his jacket and returned to the main road.  
And he began to walk. Without a precise goal, he just wanted to go on, without stopping ... without ever looking back.

But at that moment, a familiar sound forced him to look up.

"Are you kidding me?" he growled through clenched teeth, while an advertising screen began to crackle as if subjected to some kind of interference.

The vigilante didn't need to check the news to know that all the screens in the city were facing the same problem. By now he knew that procedure by heart.  
Some more crackling, then the most total white. Silence. Then, the image came back as clear as the day.  
And there he was, just like Peter remembered from two nights before. The same ruthless, relentless and deadly Carnage responsible for so many deaths in the city of New York.  
Seeing him on television was one thing, but to find that monster in front of him ... it had been a chilling experience. He almost died a second time!

This was not an enemy like Thanos, whose actions - however crazy - had always been characterized by a grain of rationality and pragmatism.  
Carnage was indeed a person who found his only reason for living in the murder and suffering of others. A monster in human skin in every respect.

"Welcome back to Tele-Carnage, ladies and gentlemen. Here is your friendly neighbourhood Carnage with a pearl of wisdom directly from me!" the creature exclaimed, turning that seemingly timeless smile to the camera.

"See, some people think that what makes us a divine species, which separates us from animals without a soul ... is the propensity for good", he said with an apparently casual tone, as if he were really holding some sort of live conference. "Yet I would propose another theory. Because goodness ... compassion, generosity, these things are also present in the lower life forms. But evil ... true evil ... no. No, you can't find this among the birds, the bees and the monkeys in the trees."

He pointed a long, clawed finger at the ceiling.

"See, I have always thought that it is in our ability to accomplish wickedness that we see reflected our most genuine divine nature", he stated with de facto tone.  
Then, he pointed dramatically at the camera, snapping his forked tongue between his jaws.

"You are all prisoners, dear viewers. What you call 'sanity' is only a prison for the mind that prevents you from seeing that you are only small gears of a gigantic and absurd machine! Wake up!" he hissed, leaping forward and grabbing the camera.

Because of the sudden gesture, Peter jumped back in fright, a gesture that was imitated by many of the pedestrians who had gathered on the sidewalk to watch the broadcast.  
Meanwhile, the smile on the serial killer's face seemed to widen.

"Why be gears? Be free! Like me! And to help you in this endeavour, I'll give you all a gift tonight. After today, every man, woman or child in New York ... will fully understand his place in this crazy world. Carnage out!"


	12. 12 to Midnight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, boys and girls...I'm back! Did you miss me? Becouse I miessed YOU...and this story.
> 
> Enjoy this new chapter! And, as always, a big thank you to the best SpiderMarvel writer and my personal corrector, 1Storywriter1

Carnage's threat had landed. A tail more than eight kilometres long wound in the direction of Brooklyn Bridge, a branch even started from the City Center Memorial Park.

From the bridge you could see City Island and from there stood the imposing and proud Statue of Liberty, which raised its torch. The large statue had been built decades earlier as a lighthouse, a light that would illuminate the city's hopes and dreams. Unfortunately, over the years, that light had dimmed to illuminate little more than the infinite series of failures in the metropolis.

Agents on motorbikes or on horseback paraded alongside the queued cars in an almost vain attempt to remain calm among those who desperately wanted to escape. Line buses, intended for a new use, had been collected at the most critical point, in order to partially lighten the traffic, but they also ended up trapped in the crowd of terrified fugitives.

From the back seat of the service car, George Stacy orchestrated the city exodus as best he could. He was caught in the tourbillon of half a dozen cell phones that put him in communication with the captains of the key districts of New York.  
The vehicle proceeded for most of its torturous path on the sidewalks, and the insistent cry of the siren put the already terrified citizens on the run, who tried not to be run over.

"Sir", a voice on the phone said. "My men have already evacuated a third of the population of Roosevelt Island, but we'll never be able to reach everyone in time."

Tom Hills, veteran of the New York Police Department, twenty-two years of service, was captain in the Fifth district, and he was clearly frightened. At the same time, however, he endeavoured to maintain control.

"I don't know what to do, sir. We really need help."

"I wish I could give you, Tom", Stacy replied. Hills had been one of the first policemen he met after his arrival in New York. It was almost impossible to find a better and more honest agent than him, which is why he was promoted to captain only three years later. "We have the staff reduced to the bone. You need to evacuate all you can."

"And those that we can't evacuate, sir?"

The answer was hateful to him, but Stacy knew there wasn't another.

"We can't do the impossible."  
And, having said that, he closed the communication before Hills could reply, dropped the phone on the seat and exhaled deeply.

Even in the best conditions, it was an impossible job. Today was even worse.

He watched several school buses loaded with middle school kids, or even younger ones, passing his car. They headed north, passing Brooklyn Bridge and Manhattan. From there they would be pushed west and, with a little luck, they would leave the city in an hour or two.

The children seemed frightened and for a good reason: it was undoubtedly the most chaotic situation they had witnessed in the course of their young lives. Unfortunately, New York always found a way to leave its mark, even on the youngest.

"In the end, everything always falls on children, doesn't it?" Stacy said to Ben Finch, his driver. "They must be so scared. I look at them and I can only think when Gwen was their age."

Finch nodded. "Yes, but do you know what, Commissioner? Twenty years ago there were no monsters like Carnage. Today, we are invaded. I couldn't even count them."

He shook his head.  
"In my opinion, these children know all too well how low humans can go. They don't even realize that life doesn't have to be a sewer, that this shouldn't be the norm. For me, this is the real crime."

Stacy felt a squeeze in the stomach. "How do we deal with such a situation?"

"Well, you asked me: it's just my opinion, of course, but for me it would take at least a hundred people like the Avengers. And we should make all our resources available to them."

With each word, his voice rose in cadence. He took a deep breath and added. "As I said, it's just my opinion."

"It is fortunate that there are people like the Avengers", Stacy agreed, but not without a certain degree of reluctance. "Maybe they are even fundamental, I know too. But as precious as they are, you know better than me that we cannot live forever under their tutelage. We'll need the law sooner or later, rules and order. People turn to us policemen in search of protection and must believe that we are up to the task, and we don't need outside help."

"I agree with you, sir", Finch said to Stacy. "But until then, with all that is going on in the world ... I think they'll need to take care of everything for us."  
 **  
**"The trouble is that they really raise the stakes. And the criminals continue to adapt to the new level."

"I realize it, sir. But if you are so opposed to the Avengers, why do you let people like Spiderman operate freely in this city?"

"Because they aren't the ones who worry me. As annoying as he is, I know that Spiderman is a good person. It's his followers and those of the other Avengers who worry me, who want to imitate them. Not all of them will have their unshakeable sense of justice, like that Punisher. I always pray that one day New York and the other cities of the world will only need the police."

"It's a beautiful dream, sir", Finch muttered, before stopping the car. "Here we are."

Stacy took a deep breath and opened the door, immediately finding himself immersed in a cacophony of lights and screams, many of which belonged to the agents who tried to maintain order around the police station.

"You know, Ben, until yesterday six million people lived and worked here in New York", he muttered, getting out of the car. "Now there are not so much any anymore."

* * *

**XXXX**

* * *

"Mr Fisk? I'm Turk. I'm between seventeen and Broadway. I met Hood's guys like you said, only that they changed their minds. They don't want to join us against Carnage. Hood said that now we are all against everyone."

"And what is our response to betrayals, Mr. Barrett?"

"They confiscated my weapons before I entered, and they didn't return them to me when I left. I mean, boss, I'm lucky that they let me go. Could you send me reinforcements?"

"Barrett, I sent you to handle the situation. And I expect you to do it. Solve the problem, or maybe Mr. Hood will allow you to become a member of his entourage. You know how important loyalty is to him."

"Yes. Um, all right, sir. I understand. I'll take care of it. Don't worry, boss."

"I don't worry, Turk", Wilson Fisk, aka the Kingpin of New York crime, said. "I pay someone to do it for me."

Turk Barrett felt the line drop and felt a lump in his throat.  
He had no choice. Counting Hood, there were seven inside the office building. The question was: could only one man kill them all ... a man without a gun?  
Unfortunately he knew the answer: impossible.

At the age of nineteen, Turk Barrett had found himself without great expectations from the point of view of work. He had hardly finished middle school and had given up in the penultimate year of high school. At the time, one of the few jobs he could do was as the henchmen for the Maggia Family. But he wasn't very good at it.  
A year later he had moved to Thompson Lincoln's gang.

He had gone from gang to gang, affiliating himself until they kicked him out. But, four months earlier, he had finally entered that of Wilson Fisk, recently released from prison. And unfortunately, he knew that if he failed again he couldn't join another gang as if nothing had happened. Wilson Fisk, after all, didn't take failures well.

Turk looked down the street and saw some police cars parked. The agents weren't there, they were probably evacuating the neighbourhood, like their colleagues did after Carnage's announcement.

The road was littered with rubble, including a crowbar half hidden in the bushes of a flowerbed.  
He knew he wasn't the smartest of Fisk's men but, given the opportunity and the urge to stay alive, he was perfectly capable of doing some calculations.  
He took the crowbar, looked around to make sure no one saw it and prepared to break through the window of a steering wheel. With any luck, he would find a loaded pistol inside.

"Hi!" a sudden voice exclaimed above him, forcing him to stop and look up.

"Spiderman", Turk swore, as soon as his eyes landed on the figure of a certain wall-climber comfortably resting on the top of a lamppost.

The vigilante, dressed in his Iron-suit, began to clap his hands mockingly.

"I bet nothing gest past you", he said, then took a leap and landed right in front of the man.

"I couldn't help eavesdropping. I heard you were talking to good old Fisk. Would you like to tell me the topic of the conversation?"

"Fuck you", the thug growled, raising the metal tube in attack position.

The Avenger's lenses thinned into a couple of slits.  
"Wrong answer", he whispered in a low voice.

Then, he lunged forward with a lightning motion and hit Turk directly in the jaw, sending him straight against a wall.  
After trapping his arms and legs with a spider web, he walked up to him and grabbed him by the neck.

"I had a really bad day, so you should be very careful with your next words", he hissed in the face of the criminal, whose face was now a mask of blood. "I know you were talking about Carnage. Tell me where he is!"

"I don't know where he is, I swear!" Turk exclaimed, visibly frightened. "I just know he recently bought a lot of weapons from Fisk!"

"Weapons? What the hell are they for?" Peter asked, visibly perplexed. After all, Carnage was hardly the type of person who needed guns or pistols to kill.

Turk swallowed hard.  
"I don't know! But now Fisk is trying to convince the other gangs to come together to hunt down that monster. I am only a messenger!" he shouted desperate.

The vigilante remained silent, staring at him for what seemed an interminable time. Then, he let go of the man's neck and took a step backwards.

"This better be true…for you", he said coldly.

He shot a web at the nearest building and launched himself in midair, a single thought going through his mind: _"What game are you playing, Fisk?"_

* * *

**XXXX**

* * *

Perched on a stone gargoyle, seventy meters from the sidewalk, Carol Danvers was peering at the members of that fleeing horde.

Thousands of men and women dragging tearful children behind them, their faces distorted with terror, all in the hope of being able to leave the city before Carnage started whatever he organized for the city. Many were convinced that he would detonate bombs, while others that he would begin a long slaughter that would last for the whole night.

Living in New York often meant living in fear. Soon there would be nothing but fear… unless something was done about it.

_"Unless the Avengers do something about it"_ , Carol thought, as she saw Hulk helping some cops move abandoned cars that blocked traffic.

At the same time, the woman noticed a group made up of five unsavoury-looking guys approaching an old building.  
What appeared to be the boss was thin and small, and he shouldn't be more than twenty-five years old. He wore jeans and a blue T-shirt with the design of a famous cartoon character.

The boy stuffed an alcohol-soaked rag into a glass bottle full of gasoline and motor oil and then lit the makeshift wick. Once broken, the bottle would have generated an instantaneous and deadly fireball. Always if someone hadn't stopped him earlier.

Carol jumped into the group and grabbed the hooligan, lifting him from the ground for about four meters. Then she dropped him, breaking his legs.  
As soon as the aspiring arsonist was stopped, the woman dived and grabbed the incendiary bottle. Then she threw it across the road, towards the Hudson River, where it sank without damage.

Carol landed in the middle of the other four in the group and knocked the biggest one down with a punch to the jaw so strong it broke it. The criminal, who was bleeding from his mouth, stopped and fell to the ground.

The other two were wingmen accustomed to seeing their victims surrender with just a few moans of fear, to indicate their disagreement in the face of the superior force of the group. The terrified shopkeepers rarely reacted, when the gang aimed their weapons on them with the threat of sending them to hell if they didn't release the contents of cash register.

But Carol had no intention of complaining or giving up. They deserved a lesson, no matter how long they would spent in jail.  
 **  
**She punched the hooligan hard on the bench. The boy was out of breath and collapsed, and as a real idiot he tried to put his hand on his belt to hold a gun.

With a quick fist, Carol fractured the bones of one hand, which she heard cracked and then broke. The thug cried out in pain.  
Once healed, within six to eight months, he could use it again to bring food to his mouth, perhaps even to cut it, but little more. His criminal days were gone forever.

At the sight of those downcast suburban hooligans, Carol felt neither joy nor satisfaction. She merely observed everything with an impassive, empty gaze.  
Out of the corner of her eye she saw that thug number four was trying to escape.

Without wasting time, the woman raised her right hand and hit him with a ray of cosmic energy. She saw the boy fall to the ground without getting up.

The hooligan number five proved to be smarter, or at least he had treasured what had happened to friends. He went to his knees and put his hands on the back of his neck, interlacing his fingers as he had certainly been ordered many times. Carol didn't give it any importance.

She raised her right hand and clenched it in a fist, preparing to hit the boy.

"Carol!" a voice behind her exclaimed.

The woman spun around. Bucky Barnes had appeared a few meters from her ... and he didn't seem happy at all.

Snapping her tongue, the Avenger let go of the thug, who was staring at her with an expression full of terror.

She put a couple of handcuffs around his wrists, activated the communicator and tuned it to Rhodey's frequency.

"Rhodey, I have five thugs already packed on Robbins, south of Times Square. Someone should pick them up."

"All the police officers are busy, Carol", the comrade Avenger replied. He looked tired and frustrated, but determined not to give up. "We have to evacuate a city of six million inhabitants, terrified and in hysteria, and we have not even a thousand policemen available. They are doing everything possible to keep at least a semblance of order, but trains and buses are not enough for even a quarter of the people. Therefore thieves, arsonists and all the other dregs in circulation today are not among our priorities."

Carol turned back to the five thugs she had stopped, all tormented except for the one who had given up.

"I'm not going to let them go, so I will take them directly to the nearest station." she muttered, before stopping the transmission.

She started to approach the delinquents, when a hand on her shoulder forced her to stop.

"What the hell did you think you were doing? You were going to kill that boy", Bucky said, staring at her with a hard look.

The woman raised an eyebrow.  
"I would have only made him unconscious", she retorted angrily, abruptly removing the arm of the former soldier.

He stared at her incredulously.  
"He had given up! You had no reason to hit him."

"He's a criminal!" Carol growled, violently slamming one foot against the asphalt and making the whole area tremble. At the same time, the street lamps in the neighbourhood began to release sparks and electric discharges, which certainly didn't go unnoticed to Bucky's eyes.

The man raised both his hands, in an attempt to calm the superheroine.

"You are frustrated, I can see it. Do you want to tell me why?" he asked with a much gentler tone, hoping wholeheartedly that she wouldn't hit him with a ray of cosmic energy.

The woman tightened both eyelids.  
"I don't want to talk about it", she snorted with a low voice, continuing to walk towards the unconscious bodies of the delinquents.

Bucky snapped his tongue annoyed.  
"Okay, it's time to use heavy calibres", he thought with a hint of bitter irony.

"Is because of Spiderman?" he asked suddenly.

The reaction he got was practically instantaneous.  
Carol stopped suddenly in the middle of the road, remaining silent. Then, she slowly turned her head towards him.

"What about him?" she asked coldly.

Bucky refused to back down and held the superheroine's gaze.  
"It's all day that we try to contact him and he hasn't yet answered. Did something happen between you two?"

"Like what?" the other sarcastically retorted.

The super-soldier shrugged.  
"I don't know, maybe a classic quarrel between lovers."

The woman blushed sharply.  
"I do not ... as you can think of ... he and I are not ..." she stammered, trying to simulate an expression furious enough to frighten the comrade Avenger. The soldier, however, simply scrutinized her with an impassive, apparently unimpressed look.

Carol let out a sigh.  
"How long have you known?" she asked resignedly.

"For about a month", Bucky replied. "You are quite obvious. In fact, I'm surprised that more people haven't discovered it."

The blonde's face blushed further.  
"W-we've never been obvious!" she protested indignantly.

Bucky snorted amused.  
"It's clear that you have never noticed the way you look at each other during meetings. It's the same look Steve gave to Peggy before each mission", he said with a de facto tone.

Silence reigned in the neighbourhood.

Carol opened and closed her mouth a few times, then released a snarl and went back to staring coldly at her teammate.

"Does this not cause you problems?" she asked defiantly.

Bucky shrugged a second time.  
"It would be rather hypocritical from me, considering that my best friend had an affair with a woman who was one third of his age. Not to mention that that woman also turned out to be his acquired granddaughter."

"... Ok, it's pretty messed up", Carol admitted, unable to hold back a little smile.

"Believe me, I lost sleep for days", Bucky said, shivering at the memory of those nights spent in white. Then he went back to peering at the superheroine.

"So, will you tell me what happened? Did you quarrel?" he asked curiously.

Carol gasped. "Bingo", the Avenger thought.

"No ... or rather yes ... or rather, I did", the woman said, with uncertainty. "I was angry ... hurt ... and I lost control. I told him things I didn't really think."

Bucky didn't reply and just stared at her. Feeling weighed by that look, the woman let out a frustrated groan.

"Or maybe I thought them, but ... God, I feel like shit", she muttered with a low voice, while she put a hand on her face.

In front of her, the super-soldier looked up to the sky.  
"You are neither the first nor the last person who almost blew up a relationship for some stupid thing they said."

"Remove the 'almost'. I think that ship is now on the ocean floor", the blonde bitterly replied.

Bucky raised an eyebrow. "Are you really sure?"

"After what I told him? Yes", Carol answered, with a de facto tone.

Despite his best judgment, the super-soldier found himself smiling in front of the woman's naivety. She was an excellent soldier and an extraordinary strategist, but she seemed to struggle to distinguish people from machines. She seemed almost convinced that, in the human body, there were sectors specifically programmed to respond to certain situations. In a sense, she was very similar to the generals of his time.

"You underestimate that boy's heart", he said, after a few moments of silence. "Did he ever tell you what made him choose to become Spiderman?"

Carol stared at him.  
"The death of his uncle", she answered with a hint of reluctance."It was caused by a thief whom he had previously let go."

"Did he also tell you that he had managed to capture that man?" the soldier asked, further surprising the woman.

"He ... no, he didn't", she admitted almost with a whisper.

The super-soldier nodded to himself.

"He told it to me, during one of our workouts. Imagine: the only father figure he had…was stolen from him just a few hours earlier. He had his killer in his hands and was holding him over the ledge of a five-storey building", he revealed, making the woman jump.

_"Oh my God, Peter",_ she thought, as she felt a chill gripping her heart.

"He could have let him fall ... but he didn't", Bucky continued. Then he curled both lips into a proud smile. "He chose to turn him over to the police. He chose to do the right thing where many others would choose to take revenge. And, a few months later, he went to visit that man in prison ... and he simply forgave him."

Carol dilated her pupils and opened her mouth wide. She knew that Peter had faced many things, despite his young age. But this ... she never expected such a scenario.  
When she found herself in front of a defenceless Yon-Rogg, she too had been very tempted to kill him right there and make him pay for all the horrors he had committed against her and the people she cared about.  
Still, Carol had chosen to spare her enemy and not give up to revenge. Just like Peter.

"Are you still convinced that you have no more hopes?" Bucky asked, bringing her back to reality.

The woman looked down at the ground, as if she was in a state of profound contemplation.  
After what seemed an interminable time, she raised her head and stared at the other Avenger with determination.

He sighed with relief.

"Go look for him", the super soldier said. "Find him, before he takes advantage of all this mess to do something stupid. I'll take care of these guys."

Carol sent him a smile full of gratitude.  
Then, she flew into the sky and started heading for the Stark Tower.

* * *

**XXXX**

* * *

"Here I am, Fisk", Stacy said, as he entered the interrogation room. "So, what do you have for me?"

Wilson Fisk, better known as Kingpin, was on a huge chair, suitable for his massive build, and mumbled a big cigar. The commissioner remained standing.

"I'll get straight to the point", the crime boss said, releasing a thick cloud of smoke. "I would like to file a complaint against Spiderman. Burglary and violation of private property. Aggression and beatings. He thinks he can go into someone's house, step on him, and then drag him to prison without a proof rag. Isn't that an injustice? Now, I'm not a lawyer, but I've known enough to know one or two things about the law, and I don't think Spiderman is respecting it."

"I don't doubt it", Stacy replied, looking at the time. "And I'll face the problem ... but we're not here to talk about him, right?"

"Oh, no! Of course not! Um ... as you know, I consider myself a businessman. I have night clubs, racing salons, massage centers ..."

"You mean drug stores, gambling dens and brothels."

"You have no proof about this, do you? When I think of opening a new business - always in a legal way and in the light of the sun, I remind you- I write a detailed business plan and offer the material to people interested in investing. Until proven otherwise, I insist that you recognize the full legality of my business."

"We know what kind of business you talk about", Stacy replied. "And when you say invest, we read extort."

"If it's not soup it's a wet pan", Fisk said, with a shrug. "But I'm a business man **.** Instead, this Carnage is a nutty fool, and his delusional plans are hurting my business. I want you to stop him. After all, I pay your wages with taxes."

"Remember me to send you a thank you note", Stacy said, as he sat down and threw him some papers. "If you hate him so much, why did you sell these weapons to him? And before you deny it, here's the deed of sale signed by you and Carnage."

Fisk threw the cards on the table without even looking at them.  
"First of all, I have those weapons legally. My lawyers will forward the licenses to you. Secondly, what kind of businessman would I be if I didn't sell him my products, especially if that idiot was willing to pay them even after a price increase ... completely reasonable? Profits lead to strange alliances, you know? And then, seriously, do you really think I could say no to someone like him? I'm rather surprised that he didn't try to take them by force, but I suppose even a madman knows how to recognize when the numbers are not on his side."

"A lot depends on whether or not you were aware of what Carnage was going to do with those weapons", Stacy replied. "If you were aware of it, you're a partner in crime. And if I can prove it, I swear that you will never see the light of the sun again."

"It's the same thing that Matt Murdock told me before I was sent to prison twice, yet here I am again outside. Between saying and doing there is a sea", Fisk said, with a little smile. "Anyways, no, I don't know what the hell he wants to do with those weapons. Actually, I didn't ask, and he didn't tell me. But, if I had to guess, I think he's building an army. Perhaps for protection from the Avengers, because I seriously doubt that he would need it against the police."

The man gave the cigar one last pull, then squeezed the stub into the styrofoam cup on the table.  
"In any case, for my companies to grow and prosper, New York must be relatively quiet. Chaos is not an atmosphere that favours business. And here's the reason for this chat. You could ask me the same question about Genshiro Shiragami. I think you would receive a completely different answer."

"Shiragami? The chemist? What does he have to do with Carnage?" Stacy asked, visibly surprised.

After all, he had heard of the man several times. He was one of the most renowned individuals in the scientific community of New York, and had recently been involved in the creation of a new type of bacterium capable of increasing the productivity of wheat and allowing it to thrive even in desert areas.

Fisk just shrugged.  
"I don't know, but, thanks to my informants, I know for sure that Carnage kidnapped him recently. And of course I also told this to Spiderman."

"And how did he react?"

"More seriously than usual. A pity, I like that boy. It doesn't have all the anxiety of Daredevil. He makes me smile. I mean, what would you like to arrest me for, exactly?" he continued, in a mocking voice. "Legal weapons? I got it. Deed of sale? I got it. Tax paid? I got it. You won't frame me like Al Capone. And I believe that the denunciation for obscene acts in a public place has fallen in prescription. So unless you can find an indictment that lasts longer than a family-sized pizza takes to get here, when can I leave? I have a company to run."

* * *

**XXXX**

* * *

Peter began to walk down the path that led to the Kasady's house.

Weeds infested the lawn in front of the house, hiding the stones that marked the path to the porch. Crickets sang in the meadow, and some grasshoppers were seen jumping around in erratic and casual parables.

The building was pervaded by a disturbing aura. As edgy and dilapidated as it was, with the windows all barred with planks, it had the sinister appearance of all the old houses abandoned for a long time. The exterior plaster had fallen, swept away by the rain, and the house had taken on a grey and uniform colour.  
The windstorms had caused several tiles to fly away, and at a point on the east side a heavy rain had made the roof arch, giving the whole a rickety and threatening appearance.

A wooden sign attached to the mailbox warned against going any further.

He felt a sudden urge to stop, but it only lasted a couple of seconds. He was the amazing Spiderman, after all. This house was nothing compared to individuals like Thanos and Carnage. Of course, he just hoped Carnage himself wasn't in there.

He looked around one last time.  
The house had been inspected a few days after Kasady's escape from Ryker's Island prison, without the police officers in charge finding anything there. Subsequently, no other checks had been made.

This is because, according to Commissioner Stacy's statements, it was very unlikely that Kasady would have chosen such an obvious place as a refuge.  
Of course, this was also the reason Peter had gone there. It was not excluded that Kasady had taken advantage of this belief to use the house as a hiding place later. After all, the police practice was never to check a place that had already been inspected, and due to the whole situation with Carnage, Ryker's Island's escape had probably gone into the background.

Sure, Peter could have informed Stacy of his theory - that Carnage and Kasady were the same person - but he didn't want to risk putting other agents in danger. They didn't have what was needed to fight that monster ... but he did.

He crossed the lawn between the crickets and the locusts to the porch and looked inside, through the glimmers of the nailed boards.  
He swallowed and stared at the house, almost hypnotized.  
Once he entered the lobby, he smelled musty and damp intent on corroding the walls and the wallpaper, while a group of mice ran frantically along the walls, towards their hiding place.

He began to look around.  
The house was littered with junk shops and furniture covered in dust. His gaze lingered on a spiral staircase that connected the living room to the floor above.  
He appealed to his senses and tried to evaluate whether or not there was someone in the house.  
Nothing. Not a heartbeat, not a pounding of footsteps or the hiss of a breath. The house seemed completely deserted.

First he went upstairs, checking the bedrooms and bathrooms, but found nothing useful.  
Then it was the turn of the main floor, but the result was more or less the same.

The only sign that someone had been present in that house in the last few days was some leftover food that he found scattered around the kitchen, but could have been safely left by a homeless man who had chosen the house as temporary accommodation.

Finally, the turn of the basement came. Peter would have liked to avoid it, his experience with horror films had never been pleasant when it came to that particular section of a building.

"Come on, Parker, don't be a child", he muttered to himself, then took a deep breath.

Being careful not to make too much noise, he began to descend the staircase that led to the cellar.  
The door to the room was locked with a padlock.

"Not for long", Peter thought.

Using his superior strength, he broke the bolt in seconds, opened the door wide ... and stopped.  
The whole room seemed to come directly from the isolation cell of an asylum.

The dirty and wrinkled walls were almost completely covered with large red writing, thousands of AH AH AH AH scattered on every inch of concrete.  
Except for the wall perpendicular to the door, on the right, where numerous photos and newspaper articles stood out, connected to each other through a scarlet thread.

Swallowing hard, Peter approached the improvised board slowly.

He saw pieces of newspapers about Claridge and Erbert, photos that depicted them as they prepared to enter their homes or stroll through the city. It was evident that Kasady had been keeping an eye on them for a long time, to learn all he could about the daily routine of what would be his future victims.

Later, Peter's eyes landed right in the centre of the board, where all the red threads met on a newspaper clipping depicting a middle-aged man with Asian features, perhaps of Japanese origin.

"Genshiro Shiragami", the boy read, realizing that this was the same person who, according to Fisk's informants, had been kidnapped by Carnage that same day.

Next to the article stood a map of Manhattan, where a specific point of the island was circled in red.

The vigilante tightened both eyelids in deep concentration, in an attempt to remember what that part of the city corresponded to.  
When he did, he felt his heart skip a beat.

"Oh, no ..."


	13. I've become death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the new chapter!  
> Are you ready for the action? As always, thank you 1Storywriter1, my loyal corrector!

Peter had visited Osborn Chemicals a few times, when Tony had considered the idea of buying the company and the land. He had given up on it when geologists had told him that the soil was irreparably contaminated and there was no way to reclaim it.

Later, he decided to write a thesis about the building, for the history course.  
During his research he had checked every building in the complex and knew its layout by heart. But nevertheless, he entrusted himself to the plans provided by Karen. It never hurt to overlap more information.

The structures were crossed by underground tunnels that branched out over the whole area and which were accessed via steel grids. Almost 100 years ago, thousands of dollars in liquor and smuggled cigarettes were illegally transported through those tunnels or others like them.

Like many buildings built in New York in the mid-1930s, the factory had been designed with the smuggler mind-set of the time and had served its owners well.  
Built due to prohibition, the underground network extended over the entire city area, reaching practically any corner, in most cases hidden from view.

That maze of dreary tunnel and always in the dark was the concrete reminder of the fact that the New York alcoholic's skin that everyone believed they knew as their pockets only served to hide diseased bones.

Spiderman thought of exploiting the tunnels to his advantage, to avoid Carnage's army.  
Using the mask's heat systems, the Avenger identified a total of thirty forms of heat. Some simply stood on guard, while others were busy unloading large crates from trucks parked around the perimeter of the building.

Among the visible mercenaries, the teenager managed to identify some former marines, Hydra associates and other people who, for one reason or another, had ended up on the Avengers and SHIELD blacklist. Individuals willing to follow any bidder if the pay was good enough. The kind of people who would also work for someone like Carnage.

"What is he planning?" he muttered to himself.

He opened one of the grates, crept into the darkness and closed the grill again.  
Entering a large warehouse, he went up until he found himself observing the heating pipes that vented the heat produced by the chemical processes.  
Through a grate he saw a single mercenary walking back and forth. He was looking at a man of Asian nationality, apparently in his fifties, tied with large chains to the only column in the room above.

"Shiragami", Spiderman sensed, as he began to approach the couple.  
Fortunately, the noise from the vents was loud enough to cover his movements.

He followed the man's path and took a position about ten meters from him, then, when the militiaman passed over him, he remained silent.

With a sudden and imperceptible move, in the pounding noise of the pumps, he moved the grate, grabbed the man by the ankle and pulled the leg down.  
The soldier fell, and Peter closed his mouth to stop him from shouting, while with the other arm he blocked his throat and squeezed it, until the man passed out.

"Bucky would be proud of me", he thought with amusement.

Once out, he ran across the room to the chained hostage.  
"You're safe", he said while releasing him.

Shiragami trembled with fear and, trying to get up, stammered something.  
"The building has been in operation for hours. They brought trucks, weapons and soldiers. Oh my God, a lot of soldiers. And a lot of harmful substances. They are mixing them now, and because of me they know very well what they are doing. I ... I told him how to do it ... I had no choice, he would have killed me ..."

The voice cracked, so Peter tried to change the subject, to prevent the man from sinking into the memory of what he had gone through.

_"Keep him talking, but not about imprisonment"_ , Carol's voice whispered **. _"_** _Treat him like a team member, not just a terrified victim."  
_  
"You did an excellent job, but I need more information", he said calmly. "What's your name?"

"My name? Gengiro. Gengiro Shiragami. I am a chemist."

"So far you've gone very well, Gengiro. Now I have to ask you a very important thing. Do you know where I can find their leader, Carnage?"

It seemed that the man was trying to think, but his mind was slowed down. Spiderman, however, remained silent.  
"I only know that his plan is proceeding without any problems. He has a whole army behind him", he muttered, then put both hands on his temples. "They are out of their mind!"

"That's what I wanted to know, Gengiro. Now I can prepare myself, you have been very good. Indeed, even better. You are safe and sound. You don't have to worry. I will get you out of here, I promise you that I will stop them."

While the Japanese man was shaking his head, his eyes were wide with fear.

"You can't", he said, the words that got stuck in his throat. "Nobody can. You don't understand, Carnage is creating a kind of bomb that will cover the entire East Coast with a lethal toxin. Oh God, his men said they are making it right now, and because of me they know how to do it. We are doomed!"

Peter tried to calm him down, but the man's words were chilling.  
Fear began to mount within him, but he quickly chased it away. He had a work to do ... and thanks to Shiragami, he knew exactly where the enemy was.

"I understand, Gengiro, but you have to listen to me. Despite Carnage's appearance, only a human being hides under that mask."

He let him metabolize.

"And this means that I can stop him. Do you understand what I say? We can defeat him. And we will. So come with me."

"You won't go anywhere, arachnid. Well…maybe in Heaven!"

Peter turned and heard a door close. From the window in the room he saw Carnage, flanked by a dozen militiamen.

The serial killer went to the window, put a finger on it and drew a smiley face in the dust.  
"How nice to see you again, Spiderman. If this glass didn't separate us, I would shake your hand. And to you too, Shiragami!"

"Well, it won't happen", the vigilante replied, placing himself in front of the chemist. "Tell your men to put down their weapons and surrender. Now."

Carnage laughed. "As you said, it won't happen".

He turned to the mercenaries and nodded to them. "Well, here is the second reason why I hired you. Keep your weapons pointed at him, but don't target the symbol in his chest. That's just ... a little trick."

Then, he turned back to the climbing walls.  
"Isn't it?" he said in his scratchy voice.

He burst into another laugh and turned to his men. "The part under the spider has been reinforced. And, since it is above the heart, it would be a good target ... if you didn't know the truth."

He pointed to the other parts of the armour and continued: "Aim for the weak points on the shoulders, there and there. Shoot the joints between the plates."

Shiragami's eyes widened in terror.  
"How does he know all these things, Spiderman?" he stammered in a low voice.

At the same time, Peter's mind began to run a thousand.  
"I don't know", he answered with a whisper. "But I'm going to find out."

"Excuse me", the serial killer interrupted them. "Did the good doctor say something? Maybe we should all hear it."

"He's an innocent. Leave him out of this", Peter growled.

Carnage merely shrugged.  
"Come on, Spidey, haven't you heard my speech? Nobody is one hundred percent innocent. The real question is: how guilty is he? But you always defend the weak and the defenceless. And, to tell the truth, that's exactly what I like about you", he admitted with a slight touch of irony.

The vigilante clasped both hands in clenched fists.  
"What do you want, Carnage?" he asked coldly.

The serial killer began tapping his chin, as if he was mulling over the matter.  
"What do I want? Right, so then we're on the same wavelength. What I want ... is to kill you", he said with a de facto tone. "But not only you, I want to kill every fucking inhabitant of this city. I want to make it pay to all those who remained to watch, while I was imprisoned and forced to spend my last ten years in a shit hole."

And, after having said these words, he gestured to the mercenaries who flanked him.  
"Well, what are you waiting for? Kill him!" he ordered with a grin.

Without wasting time, the criminals opened fire, breaking the windows.

Spiderman was quick to grab Shiragami and push him to the ground, preventing the barrage of bullets from hitting them.

"Run!" the teenager shouted.

The chemist got up from the ground and ran like a rocket towards the nearest emergency exit, just as the mercenaries entered the room.

Spiderman started the attack and aimed at the group of soldiers.  
He landed on the first by nudging him on the neck. In sudden shock and pain, the man fell to his knees. The vigilante threw a punch at his throat and that ended up on the ground.

One of the other mercenaries raised his weapon to open fire once again. Spiderman bent down and turned to kick his belly.  
The man doubled over in pain, then Peter spun again and kicked him on the nose.  
While the criminal reached his companion in a state of blissful unconsciousness, the Avenger activated the mechanical legs of the suit and used them to block a volley of bullets by another mercenary.

When the others started shooting, the boy jumped on the ceiling and hung upside down.

With a cobweb he harpooned one of the soldiers by the collar and pulled him up. The man screamed as Peter grabbed his wrist and held it up to look him in the eye.  
"Believe me, man, this will hurt you more than me", he said, and then dropped it on the floor.

He felt a broken leg and a groan of pain, but the trauma silenced the mercenary. He would have survived, but he certainly would never run a marathon.  
Then, avoiding another volley of bullets, he jumped into the group of criminals and used the long mechanical legs to throw four of them against the walls of the room.  
He kicked one's leg, smashing his kneecap, and the man fell screaming in pain.

The second turned, ready to attack, and started to shoot. Spiderman threw himself over his head, grabbed him and then pulled him down, slamming him against the floor. Maybe Bucky's methods were a bit brutal ... but they worked, and also quickly. However, the crash was not enough.

The mercenary got to his feet again, aimed and pulled the trigger. At that moment, however, Spiderman grabbed his wrist and the gun shot upward. The bullet exploded against the ceiling.  
The criminal tried to free himself, but Peter tightened his grip and twisted his hand until the man ended up pointing the gun at himself. It was the drop that overflowed the jar, as the mercenary panicked and dropped the weapon.

In one movement, Spiderman kicked the gun away and finally hit the man with a knee in the stomach.  
As the opponent doubled over in pain, the teenager intertwined his hands and dropped them on the man's head, knocking him out  
The last mercenary caught sight of him across the room and tried a shot. The bullet struck the vigilante's chest and jerked him back. The armour protected him of course, but the blow at high speed still hurt a lot.

The man fired again, but Spiderman rolled sideways and the bullet darted past him, missing him by a hair.  
The mercenary threw the rifle away and grabbed an automatic rifle, but Peter was the first to react and threw a spider web, which clung around the weapon and tore it from his hands.

Then he jumped, using his mechanical legs to give himself further impetus, and landed on the opponent. He hit him hard in the face with a punch and the man fell to the ground.  
More would come soon, and sooner or later luck would abandon him. No matter how strong he was, he certainly couldn't have dodged hundreds of bullets all together.  
He took a deep breath and headed for the corridor leading to the factory's storage tanks.  
After about a couple of minutes, he arrived at his destination.

He entered what appeared to be a large laboratory and saw Carnage. He was pouring the contents of a test tube into a large underground cistern. **  
**The automatic beaters that mixed the chemicals already inserted in the mixture withdrew, a lid on top opened and the tank began to shake to mix the substances like a huge paint mixer.

Carnage turned and motioned for him to come closer.  
"It took you too long to get here, I'm a little disappointed. If you wanted to get out of it alive ... you had to run away when you had the chance."

"It's over, Carnage. I'll blow up your operation."

In response, the serial killer just spread his arms.  
"Here I am ... try to stop me!" he exclaimed with his unmistakable grin.

Peter was more than happy to oblige.  
He jumped towards the monster as its mechanical legs snapped forward. Carnage, however, managed to avoid the blow.  
The wall- climber started to defend himself, but the monster attacked him suddenly, very fast. He punched him in the face.  
Peter took only a second to recover and dodge the second blow, but as he bent over, Carnage nudged him behind the neck, where the armour was thinner. He knew exactly where he was vulnerable.

From posture it was clear that he was skilled at boxing: he kept one foot forward and his left arm stretched out. The right was near the body. Both arms raised near the smiling face.  
But the way he bent his back and knees ... reminded him a lot of the position Bucky had taught him during their training. It was almost as if he was imitating his fighting style.

Carnage stepped underneath again, punching him from the bottom of his jaw.  
The four mechanical legs snapped forward to protect him, but the monster's tendrils blocked them in mid-air.

"Come on, Spidey, show me what you got!" the serial killer mocked him, with an irreverent tone. "I always knew that I could have kick your ass, but I expected a little resistance from you. Don't let me down!"

Peter raised an arm to protect his face, and Carnage advanced: just as he expected.  
He lowered his hand in front of him and was about to hit the enemy with a right in the face, but, at the last second, the creature flew and the fist touched his cheek only.  
"I admit it, you almost got me there", he commented with his timeless grin.

The lenses on the vigilante's mask thinned into a pair of slits.  
"How do you know all these things about me?" he asked coldly.

The other burst out laughing. "It is irritating, isn't it? I know your devices and combat moves. And not only this ... Peter."

Time seemed to stop. An inexorable silence seemed to sink into the depths of the factory, interrupted only occasionally by the bubbling of the tanks.

_"No ... it's not possible,"_ Peter thought, while an unpleasant sensation began to grip his stomach.

At the same time, the fanged smile on Carnage's face grew larger.  
"It's the truth, Spiderman. I know all about you! My new best friend revealed so many interesting things to me", he said almost lovingly. At the same time, the serial killer's mask began to retract, revealing the face of Cletus Kasady.

The monster's lenses and jaws now looked like a large snake wrapped around the man's neck, an autonomous and completely independent organism from the individual to whom he was attached.

_"Oh my God ... the suit is alive"_ , Peter understood, while the creature 'all head and fangs' rubbed affectionately against the assassin's cheek, producing a chirping mixed with a chilling hiss.

Cletus smiled and began to caress the symbiote.  
"Cute, isn't it? I felt a bit like the boy who peeks at the Christmas presents", he continued mockingly. "I must admit that it was a very sad discovery. Behind all those mysteries and those powers you are only a boy in a tight suit that cries because he wants his dear old uncle back. It would be fun if it weren't so pathetic!"

He stopped suddenly, his face adorned with a contemplative frown. "Oh, what the hell? I'll laugh anyway! AH AH AH AH AH AH!"

"Shut up!"

Spiderman bent down and pulled a knee to his belly. The opponent fell backwards, spitting a thick lump of saliva.  
Peter didn't give him time to recover.  
He threw a web, harpooned the legs of the monster and lifted him, then dumped him against a beam. The moment he fell to the ground, he jumped on him and punched him face to face and stomach.

He had to maintain an advantageous position.  
Carnage thrust his knee into his sternum and forced him to retreat, then rotated, wrapped his legs around his neck and began to squeeze.

"You know, I just got an idea", the creature said. "What if I pay a visit to your aunt after we're done here?"

Peter felt that his anger was increasing, growing out of control without any warning.  
With a quick movement, he stuck two fingers into the lenses the monster had for eyes.

Screaming in pain, Carnage took his face in his hands and fell backwards, losing his grip. Spiderman was on him again and hit him in the throat with his elbow, throwing him again against the beam.  
The support collapsed because of the blow, causing a top railing to collapse. As soon as the structure touched the ground, it caused a deafening din that rang throughout the length of the complex.  
And it was at that precise moment that something decidedly unexpected happened.

Carnage let out a scream and brought both hands to his head, while long strands began to protrude from his body, stirring as if mad.

Spiderman wasted no time mulling over that unexpected opportunity.  
He jumped forward and nailed the serial killer against a wall, then repeatedly hit him.

"I'm going to kill you!" he hissed on Carnage's face, while he coughed a trickle of blood.

"Eh eh ... Spiderman, if you really had the guts to do such a thing…you would have already tried it. Me, on the other hand…"

A filamentous mass exploded from the monster's chest, investing the vigilante's body with the same intensity as a running train and tumbling it to the ground.  
The serial killer cracked his neck a few times.

"Oh, Spiderman, if only you knew what is really going on in this city, behind you. Do you really think you got these powers for a simple coincidence ? You and I are more connected than you think", he said mockingly, while the Avenger rose slowly from the ground and stared at him incredulously.

Cletus just smiled, glancing quickly at the pools now full of lethal toxin.  
"In a couple of minutes I'm going to be as far away from this place as possible. Oh, I forgot to tell you why. You know, I planned to blow up this building! So, either try to follow me, or try to stem the detonation that, by the way, will spread my toxin all over New York. You have two minutes and sixteen seconds. But please, hunt me down! I can't wait to watch this city sink into despair."

And, after saying these words, he leapt upwards and launched himself against the nearest window, disappearing into the darkness of the night.

Spiderman was tempted to run after him, but abandoned that idea almost immediately. He had to secure New York's safety first.  
There was no time to search for explosives: they could be hidden anywhere in the room. The lid above the tub opened, uncovering the toxin from which lethal fumes rose.  
Two more minutes.

"Come on, Parker, use your brain. This is elementary chemistry."

He turned to look at the room. The walls were covered with shelves and several closed containers were ordered on each. The labels that marked them listed the chemical symbols and their common names.

The containers on the first wall were classified as alcohol compounds to create fuels, solvents and more.  
The remaining shelves were littered with jars with the labels METHANOL, while others contained chemicals used in additives and food flavours, or fluorine that was used in dental hygiene products, for cooling units and sprays for aerosol.

There were also substances used to produce drugs, disinfectants, perfumes, herbicides, fuels and even more.  
Finally there was a last wall with jars whose labels indicated only the chemical compounds, but not the common names.  
Peter's mind began to process it all.

When the substances were ordered, the regular employees who loaded and unloaded the trucks were not provided with complicated lists with strings of chemical symbols, which they could hardly interpret. The lists contained only the trade names. The fact that there was an entire shelving full of unnamed containers meant that they were intended for distribution.

"Karen, what are they for?"

The voice of artificial intelligence took little time to answer.  
"They are neutralizing agents used to dilute acids and volatile substances. Do you need the complete list of their uses?"

"No", Peter said.

The explosion would have occurred exactly between one minute and thirty seconds.  
Spiderman rushed to the containers, took two at a time and brought them to the cistern. He poured the contents into it, in desperate hope that they would dilute the toxin before it exploded and spread throughout the city.

One minute and twenty seconds and four cans were left.

He poured two more into the cistern, then went to get the other three. They were large and bulky, but he had no alternative.  
He emptied the contents of the last one into the tub, then pushed the button he had seen activated by Carnage. The lid closed and the tub began to shake.  
He had thirty-seven seconds to get away from the plant before it exploded. He would never have made it in time.

"Come on, Parker, think", he muttered to himself, while he looked around once more.

At that precise moment, something tapped on the helmet of the suit, producing a loud _POP_!  
The vigilante raised a hand to his head and looked up at the ceiling.  
There was a clear liquid dripping from a large pipe stuck between the roof gratings. It was probably water ...

"Wait a second!" Peter thought, as the map of the plant appeared before his eyes once again.

Those pipes were probably incorporated into the building's cooling system, whose job was to curb any potentially lethal chemical diffusion through aerial condensation.  
Carnage knew this, that's why he had decided to blow up the whole factory, so he could get around that defence mechanism.  
However ... the water that flowed into that tube was taken directly from the Hudson River, which bordered the chemical plant. A continuous and constant flow that passed directly over the cistern.

An idea began to make its way into the Avenger's mind.

"Ok, I can do it", he muttered to himself.

He took a deep breath and shot a pair of webs against the tube. Then ... he started pulling.  
He sank his feet into the ground and pulled with all the strength he had in his body, appealing to the internal systems of the suit to give himself a greater push.

"I can do it, I can do it, I can do it ..." he continued to mutter, while splashes of water began to leak from the connection points of the pipes.

The explosion was now ten seconds away. Nine seconds. Eight seconds. Seven seconds. Six seconds ...

**CRASH!  
**  
The tube gave way, detaching itself from the support axes of the ceiling.

"Yes!" Peter exclaimed, as he fell to the ground. At the same instant, tons of water poured into the cistern and the room.

One second ... zero.

"Oh shit", the boy swore, realizing that the time had run out.

The tank exploded and the toxin spurted in all directions, mixing with the water.  
A minute before it hit him, the vigilante hoped he had diluted it enough to lessen the lethal effects.  
He was overwhelmed by a wave of water that threw him across the room, making him crash into the wall.

The suit clashed, and the boy found himself twirling in a swirl of debris and mud.  
He slammed violently from one side of the room to the other, while the internal systems of the suit began to flash red. The world had become a cacophony of alarms and colours.

After what seemed an interminable time, he managed to grab a beam and cling to it. And he waited, until the flow of water began to stabilize.  
When this happened, he began to climb along the iron column and reached the surface.

With difficulty, he collapsed on the upper ramp of the room and deactivated the mask, taking quick breaths of oxygen-rich air.  
He tried to get up, but found himself unable to make even the smallest movement. He was without strength. He couldn't even open his eyes.

A couple of minutes passed in which he lay on his back. And then…

"Holy shit", a familiar voice muttered above him.

The teenager didn't even have time to look up. Carnage grabbed him by the neck and stuck his long claws into the joints of the suit, hoisting him about a meter from the ground.  
Vaguely, the vigilante realized he wasn't smiling.

"Do you know what you did?" the serial killer growled, with a tone of voice that bordered on the purest unbelief. "The building's cooling system is connected to the factory exhausts. With this stunt you've just contaminated the water of the whole city ... It will be paralyzed for weeks!"

"Better paralyzed than dead", Peter coughed, surprising Cletus.

He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, apparently unable to argue. "Wow, you ... you are truly a phenomenon. Do you know how long I planned this night? I mean, a lot of people died to bring me here..."

"I know", the vigilante replied, smiling under the mask.

Carnage's grip tightened. "And you've ruined everything!"

"You shouldn't have explained it to me in such detail, Carnage ... It was all too easy to get into your head", Peter said, with a background of irony.

The serial killer hissed in anger.  
"Tsk! Okay ... then I'll be content to kill only you!" he exclaimed, opening his jaws wide and preparing to take off the young superhero's head. He had no chance.

A hissing sound was heard, followed by an explosion that shattered the wall closest to the pair of opponents.  
Then, Carnage's body was thrown away from the vigilante.

Peter fell to the ground, coughing loudly. At the same time, a dazzling light illuminated the darkness of the room.

The boy looked up, while Carol Danvers stood between him and Kasady, her face adorned with a visibly angry grimace.

"No ... you won't."


	14. Final Fight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the new chapter!  
> As always, a big thank you to 1Storywriter1, and, as promised...Carol vs Carnage!

"Ugh, I'll feel this in the morning", Carnage muttered, as he struggled to get up from the ground. The blow he suffered had fractured most of his joints, but these had already begun to regenerate.

About ten yards from him, Carol knelt before Spiderman's battered figure.

"Carol ..." he whispered, as soon as his brown eyes landed on those of the superheroine.

The woman held back a jerk, almost unable to stand such a vision.  
Peter's face was completely covered with bruises and cuts, a red and purple mask bathed in the blood and water of the Hudson River.

"Don't move, you are very badly injured", she said softly, stroking his cheek in a reassuring way.  
The Avenger closed his eyes, letting himself be lulled by the gesture, then burst into an excess of coughs **.** Carol's heart was wrapped in by chilling hold.

"How ... how did you find me?" the vigilante asked.

The woman smiled sadly.  
"You forget that Karen is connected to the base network. It wasn't difficult to locate the signal in this area. From then on, I just needed to follow the sound of the explosions", she offered with an ironic tone.

A hissing called the attention of both.  
They turned in unison towards Carnage, who now seemed to have completely recovered from the sudden assault.

With both eyelids tightened, Carol rose to her feet and pointed her hands at the serial killer.

"Cletus Kasady, you are under arrest for the murder of Vernon Claridge and James Erbert. You have the right to remain silent, everything you say can be used against you in court", she declared coldly.

In response, Kasady simply stared at her.  
"You are really here", he whispered after a few moments of silence. At the same time, his bristling smile with sharp teeth seemed to widen.

Carol raised an eyebrow. "Were you waiting for me?"

The monster coughed a couple of bushes, spitting a few lumps of saliva mixed with blood.  
"Eh eh", he chuckled croaking. "Fuck, for a moment I thought you wouldn't come. It would have been rather embarrassing."

Both Carol and Peter gave him a visibly confused look.

"What the hell is he talking about?" the wall-climber thought.  
Almost as if he had read his mind, Carnage barked a loud laugh.

"Oh, come on, Spiderman. You didn't think I'd risk losing the battle for New York's soul…in a fist fight with you? No. You always need an ace in the hole. And mine…is you", he said pointing to Carol. "I knew that if I tried to kill this brat, you would show up. His feelings for you are strong."

The woman came between him and Peter, while her body began to light up with an intense golden glow.

" You hurt him", she growled through her teeth.

Cletus shrugged. "Your deductive skills are commendable."

"It will your last mistake", the woman hissed, activating the combat mask of the suit.

Carnage didn't seem at all worried by the woman's threat and put his right arm forward, gesturing for her to attack him.  
"Let's dance, baby…"  
 **  
**Before he could finish the sentence, Carol had already travelled the distance that separated them.

The monster's lenses widened in surprise, while the woman grabbed him by the neck and slammed him violently against the floor of the room, raising pieces of concrete and splashes of water.

The creature opened its mouth wide and spat out a trickle of blood, as if the blow had taken away all the air he had in his body.  
Carnage's jaws snapped forward and stuck into the superheroine's shoulder. Aside from a slight initial pain, Carol found herself completely unaffected by the monster's counterattack.

She jumped into the air and threw him straight against a column. Then, she punched him in the face, making a few of his teeth fly out.  
Finally, she grabbed him by the neck again and nailed him against the iron beam.

Kasady coughed blood and saliva, his tongue hanging between his teeth like an injured dog. After taking a few breaths, however, he began to laugh. A chilling, high-pitched, grating laugh that echoed the length of the factory.

Carol narrowed her eyes into a pair of illuminated slits.  
"Let me guess. Is this also part of your great plan?" she asked mockingly.

Carnage stopped laughing and stared at her with that timeless smile.  
"Of course!" he exclaimed jovial. The woman didn't have the time to interpret the man's words.

The suit that covered Kasady opened suddenly, like a fan, revealing Cletus' human body just below the layer of filaments and protuberances.  
Carol barely had time to widen her eyes, while the huge shapeless mass covered her like a blanket, wrapping her golden figure under the incredulous gaze of Peter.

"Carol!" the vigilante exclaimed, appealing to the remaining forces to stand up. At the same time, the woman began to scream.

The symbiote began to merge with her, adhering to the Avenger's body and covering it from head to toe, while Cletus watched the whole thing a few steps away.  
After about a minute of shouting ... everything stopped. Silence reigned in the chemical factory.

Carol Danvers was still and motionless in the centre of the room, almost completely unrecognizable. In her place, there was now a grinning Carnage with feminine features.  
Peter found himself unable to make even the littlest sound, too shocked by such a turn of events.

"Not bad", Cletus commented, taking a quick look at the woman's appearance. "Now I have the most powerful human being on the planet under my control. Imagine how much damage I can do now!"  
He burst into loud laughter. "I think my next stop will be Washington. I could even become President!"

Having said that, he turned his gaze towards Peter.  
"But first ... Spiderman, would you help me test her?" he asked with a diabolical grin. At the same time, Carol ... no ... Carnage, turned to him and smiled in turn.

The teenager swallowed hard and, after taking a deep breath, began to run.

Cletus pointed to him.  
"Eh eh eh ... kill him", he ordered coldly.

Beside him, Carnage released a roar that shook the windows of the building and set off in pursuit of the Avenger.

* * *

**XXXX**

* * *

She was woken up with laughter. Not that of the audience at a comedy show venue, nor what a person does when a friend tells him a joke, but a malicious laugh, without a touch of irony. That grim and scratchy of an animal about to devour its prey.

Carol struggled to her feet and looked around immediately. She was immersed in darkness. An endless darkness, empty and formless.  
"Where the hell am I? What happened?" she thought with a panic.

The memories of what had happened a few minutes earlier all came together, making her jump.

She had Carnage at her mercy, nailed to a column ... and then ... and then ...  
She jerked her head, attracted by a strange crackle. It was then that she realized that, suspended a couple of meters above the ground, there were televisions that floated like wads of dust.  
 **  
**"What the hell ..."

"Carol", a familiar and sudden voice whispered, diverting her from those thoughts.

Opening her eyes in surprise, the woman began to look around.  
"Peter!" she exclaimed, sharpening her sight and peering into the infinite darkness that surrounded her. "Peter, where are you?"

No answer. Silence was the only thing that greeted her.

The woman let out a frustrated growl and began to walk without a precise direction. Then, after what seemed an interminable time, a distinct figure seemed to take shape a few meters away from her.

"Peter!" Carol exclaimed, smiling radiantly. Without wasting time, she ran to the figure of the vigilante. "Oh, thank goodness. I thought ..."

She tried to hug him ... but her hands passed through the teenager's body.

The blonde gave a start and took a step backwards, while the boy stared at her with a placid smile.

"Peter ..." the woman whispered, reaching out her right hand in an attempt to touch the teenager. However, the result was the same as a few seconds earlier.

The heroine's fingers crossed the wall-climber's body, producing small puffs of white smoke.  
Carol's eyes widened and she stared in disbelief at the vigilante.

"I'm not really here, Carol. And you know that", he said, with a patient tone.

The woman opened and closed her mouth a few times, apparently unable to speak. Then, she released a visibly frustrated sigh.  
"We are in my head", she muttered resignedly.

In response, Peter - or rather, her mental representation of Peter - simply offered her an ironic smile. He leaned forward and stared at her intently.

"Carol, you have to get out of here", he said with a much more serious tone.

The woman rolled her eyes. "Easier said than done. Do you have any ideas?"

"I'm as lost as you", the boy admitted the, rubbing his hair in an embarrassed way.

Despite the situation, Carol found herself smiling. "It's adorable in my head too", she thought amused.

A rattle caught the attention of both.  
The screen of a television came on and a face disfigured by a grin filled the monitor: Cletus Kasady.

The shot widened and revealed that he was on the stage of a sort of TV quiz.

"Captain Marvel!" he began. "It seems that the time has come for you to play too."

There were shouts of approval and applause.

"Then come on, beauty, because the best is yet to come. But we also have rules, which means your friend Spiderman can't come with you. Sorry, kid. These are the laws of the state about gambling: the entrance is reserved for adults."

In that precise moment, a large green door materialized in front of the couple.

"Carol, don't do it", Peter pleaded. "It's a trap."

"I know", the woman replied, with an ironic smile. "It's always a trap. But I'll go there anyway, because it's the only way I have to get out of this place. But first ..."

She approached the boy's mental projection and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

She opened the hinges and entered. She entered the dark.  
She reached out a hand in front of her and saw her fingers. Then Kasady's voice echoed in the dark.

"Welcome to the room of bad memories! There are quizzes designed to make you smile ... mine will dishearten you so much that you'll want to kill yourself!"

Suddenly a spotlight came on and bathed it in the light. The rest of the room was still in the dark, but something stealthily moved in the dark.

Carol began to relive every moment of her life, as if past and present were happening simultaneously.  
Her father's mistreatment, constant bullying, her years in aviation, forced to compete with cadets and instructors who didn't consider her good enough for the army, the torture she suffered by the Kree ... everything.

She shook her head, brushing those hallucinations away.  
"They weren't real, Kasady. None of this is real. But I promise you one thing: I won't let you hurt anyone else."

"Oh, Carol, poor girl, you are very wrong", the serial killer said.

Another spotlight revealed a quiz set, and the figure of Cletus Kasady was in the centre.

"Come on, Carol", he chuckled. "I want to sing you a song that I wrote especially for you, but not in the shoes of myself. In the shoes of the one you will soon become!"

The man disappeared. Now in his place was Carnage, standing in front of a microphone.  
"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls!" he exclaimed with a scratchy voice. "There is a nice song that I've reserved for all of you. So make yourself comfortable and relax, while I sing you a nursery rhyme that I called ... **'The asylum blues'**!"

He nodded to an invisible orchestra and the music began to play.  
He waited for an attack ... and then he started singing.

"Lights ... engine ... action! _Take me home to the asylum. You are never alone in the asylum. Total anarchy, a paradise, but in all that time you never smiled! You are the fool, I am in your head ... and now I laugh!"  
_ **  
**He slipped on stage to a coat rack that wasn't there a moment before, took it in his arms and started dancing as if he were Fred Astaire.  
Carol tried to reach out to him, but found herself unable to move.

_"In New York, in the past, my beauty I killed. They left me dying ... but then I looked at you, and in a second ... I understood: you and me always together! And now I'm laughing!"_

Carnage let go the coat rack and twirled it backstage, where it fell into the darkness of the room. The serial killer ignored the ensuing noise as if nothing had happened, and continued singing.

_"I am a nail in your head, and I laugh! Your deepest fear, and I laugh! I had a party with mom and dad, and how much I laugh! And what else could I do? You won't be able to get rid of me anymore!"  
 **  
**_A gun appeared in his hand.  
The creature laughed hysterically and fired a couple of times, aiming for something off-screen.  
A moment later, two train drivers staggered in the frame, bullet holes in the head, and ended up face down on the stage.

Carol watched everything, but couldn't help but sit there and watch. She still couldn't react, she felt wrapped in hundreds of tentacles that prevented even the slightest movement.

There were other enthusiastic shouts and applause. Then, Carnage went back to being Cletus Kasady.

"Excellent", he congratulated himself. "Excellent. And now ... _I'm Carnage, the king of torment! The two of us together, how much fun we'll have! Now you are part of me, as I'm part of you! You can no longer get rid of me! When I finally check you ... believe me, my dear, I will laugh, I WILL LAUGH!"  
_  
Another figure took a seat beside him. A woman that look exactly as Carol, but dressed in a red and scarlet dress, covered in blood.  
She held out her hand gracefully, and Kasady took it, leading as they began to dance.

The pirouettes were impeccable, and went on for almost a minute, until the body of the copy seemed to melt in a swirl of filaments.  
Kasady turned darkly towards his only spectator.

_"I'm eating your brain, and I laugh! By now I am your twin, and I laugh! Your friends are ready for slaughter, and I laugh! And what else could I do? You can't get rid of me anymore!"  
_  
The spotlights went out, leaving the room again in the dark.  
Then, a single beam of light illuminated a small part of the stage: Carnage emerged from the darkness, ready to sing the final verse.

_"I already feel your terror, now that the time has almost come! I'm in your body, I'm alive, let yourself be guided until we arrive!"  
_  
The music ended and the monster knelt.  
The screams and applause seemed to go on forever.

"Thanks", he said, in his best imitation of Elvis, while flowers were thrown on the stage as a sign of appreciation. "Thanks a lot!"

And, at that moment, Carol found herself tied to a hospital bed. She tried to move, but the laces that held her still were too strong.  
In spite of all her power ... in that world she was completely defenceless, against the desires of a madman.

Carnage walked over to her and placed a clawed finger on her forehead.

"And now ... let's drop the curtain!"

* * *

**XXXX**

* * *

There was a flash, followed by an explosion that lit the room like a lantern.

Peter jumped into the air and used a spider web to catapult himself to the factory ceiling. Behind him, a fireball incinerated whatever was within a dozen meters.  
He remained hidden among the iron boards of the roof, while the figure of Carnage made its way beyond the cloud of smoke and debris.

The creature stood still and motionless, analysing the surrounding area.  
It sniffed the air a few times, producing a low, contemplative hum. Then its white lenses landed on Spiderman.

"Shit", he muttered. At the same time, Carnage smiled and threw some harpoons at him.

The teenager dropped to the ground to avoid being impaled.

"Carol, please, I know you can hear me. You have to fight it!" he screamed, while dodging another blow by the woman.  
Performing a somersault in mid-air, he landed on the nearest wall and remained attached to it.

"Is it for that time that I told you that you looked fat?" he said ironically. "It was a joke in good faith, I swear!"

In response, the beast simply roared and launched itself against him.  
Peter jumped and landed on a beam, while the wall on which he was until a few seconds earlier exploded in a myriad of splinters and pieces of concrete.

"Ok, bad choice of words", he muttered with a low voice.

At the same time, a ray of cosmic energy departed from Carnage's hands, pointing straight in his direction.

Peter jumped up, clinging to the ceiling of the room, and began to run to avoid the bullets of light.  
When he reached the end of the roof, he fell to the ground and crouched on the floor. The opponent joined him shortly after, landing in front of him and hissing menacingly.

"Let's talk about this, Carol", the vigilante offered the vigilante. The creature roared at him, pouring copious amounts of drool on his mask.

"Okay, you don't want to talk? Take this!" he exclaimed, shooting a spider web on the monster's lenses. She growled in annoyance and brought a hand to her face in an attempt to free herself from the sticky substance.

Once done, the blonde's right hand turned into an axe, accompanied by the golden glow of cosmic energy.  
She launched herself against the Avenger.

"Oh god, no!" Peter said, while doing his best to avoid the weapon.

Carnage continued to wave its arm, trying to end its opponent's life. However, when it noticed that its attempts were proving unsuccessful, it punched the floor.  
The resulting shock wave causes the boy to lose his balance.

Before he could recover, Carnage grabbed him by the right leg and started slamming him from one side of the room to the other.

* * *

**XXXX**

* * *

Carol Danvers, in a child's body, woke up suddenly in her old bedroom, hearing a whining cry from her parents' room.  
She froze and bowed her head to listen.

"... I had it. I swear to you, I had it!"  
"Did you take it off on the beach? Before swimming?" the unmistakable voice of Joe Danvers – Carol's father - asked.

"I told you that I have not taken a bath", Marie Danvers - wife of the aforementioned – replied.

A thud echoed throughout the house. Internally, Carol hoped she wouldn't wake her brothers up.

"I saw you! You took it off to put on sunscreen!" Joe exclaimed, his tone adorned with a slight touch of exasperation.

They continued on this tone for a while and the little girl decided she could ignore them.  
At the age of nine, Carol had stopped worrying about her father's outbursts for some time. His screams of anger were part of the daily soundtrack and only rarely they were worth something. Especially if she wanted to avoid the belt. Carol hated it.

Suddenly, she heard another anguished lament.

"I knew it ended like this. As usual. You're a wimp!"  
"I asked you to look in the bathroom. Did you do it?"  
"Yes, and I haven't found anything. And do you know why? Because you lost it yesterday on the beach! You and that other slut, Jane Bennet, sunbathed all afternoon, drank one margarita after another and you relaxed so much that you almost forgot you had kids. You slept, and when you woke up, you realized that you would arrive at work an hour late ..."  
"I wasn't late."  
"... so you ran away in panic. You forgot the sunscreen and the ring too. And now ..."  
"And I wasn't even drunk, if that's what you're insinuating. I don't drive drunk with our kids in the car. That's YOUR specialty."  
"... and now you have the courage to blame me! You bitch!"

Something was heard shattering.  
Almost without realizing it, Carol slipped into the dim light of the bedroom, towards her parents' room.

The door, open by a span, revealed a slumped bedside table and a broken glass in the corner. Her father must have overthrown them in anger.

"My God, you are really a bitch", the man muttered, appearing in the girl's view. "And to think that I had children with you!"

Carol winced.  
She felt a sting in her eyes, but didn't cry. She bit her lips, an automatic reaction, and the pang of pain kept tears at bay.  
At the same time, a strange sense of deja-vu crossed her mind ... almost as if she had already experienced that scene once.

"No, go away ..." she thought desperately. Too late.  
Her father's eyes landed on the crack of the door.

"You!" he exclaimed, crossing the room with rapid strides and opening the door.

Carol tried to withdraw but the man was faster and grabbed her by the arm.

"You were eavesdropping, weren't you?" he growled through his teeth, while the girl began to feel a burning pain that crossed her limb.

"N-no ..."  
"Liar!" her father interrupted her, dragging her into the room with a strong jolt and closing the door behind him. All under the terrified gaze of the mother.

"Ugly wretch! I told you hundred times you don't have to eavesdrop!" Joe yelled, grabbing her by the shoulders and forcing her to stare straight at him in those black eyes mixed with rage and alcohol.

Carol swallowed hard.  
"I'm sorry" she whispered with a low voice. At the same time, the man's pupils were crossed by a flash.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry?!" he exclaimed incredulously. Then, he hit her in the face with a powerful slap, making her fall on the floor. "If you were really sorry, you would have listened!"

PAM! Another slap.

"Why are you making me do this to you?!" he barked on the helpless daughter's figure.

Tears of pain and sadness began to line the girl's cheeks.  
She crawled and reached out to her mother.

"Mom ... help me ..." she whispered.

Suddenly, a dark laugh rang out from a corner of the room.  
Carol turned her head slightly. Cletus Kasady was there with them, comfortably seated on a rocking chair, his face adorned with his unmistakable psychotic smile.

"Oh, my dear, she can't help you", he said with a mocking tone, pointing to the woman.

Carol looked back at her mother ... and stopped. Marie Danvers' face had become gaunt, withered and devoid of orbits, an agglomeration of worms that rubbed between the bones of the skull like small snakes.  
Her body was thin and dry, grey and without muscles. A corpse that seemed dead for decades.

Cletus got up from his chair and tapped the woman's head, which detached from her neck and rolled up to Carol.

"Say hello to mommy! AH AH AH AH AH AH!" the serial killer laughed, while the girl gave a scream full of fear and despair.

She stepped back instinctively, crashing into something. Looking up slightly, she realized that it was her father. Except that Joe Danvers no longer looked like a human being, but a creature that emerged directly from the innermost nightmares of a mentally ill person.  
He had yellow eyes, his face adorned with a crooked smile full of sharp teeth.

"Hey, Carol? Are you still my little girl?" he said with a low and scratchy voice.

He put his right hand forward and grabbed Carol's shoulder. The girl just wanted to escape from that horrible place, but found herself unable to make even the smallest movement.

The grin on the parent's face seemed to widen. "Are you?!"

"Leave her alone!"

A red and blue blur launched against the man, making him bump into the opposite wall of the room.

Carol jumped in surprise and took a quick look at her saviour.

"Peter ..." she whispered between sobs, recognizing the vigilante's figure.

There he was, in the middle of the room, standing between her and her father like an impassable wall. His hands were clenched in slightly raised fists, his legs spread apart to assume a fighting position.  
Somehow he had managed to reach her ... and now he was there to protect her.

In front of the couple, Joe Danvers got up with difficulty and stared hatefully at the wall-climber.

"How many times have I told you not to bring boys home?!" he growled with a voice much more similar to that of Cletus Kasady, who seemed to have disappeared into the air.

Then, the man opened his jaws bristling with sharp teeth, while his hands turned into a pair of sickles.  
He launched himself at Spiderman, waving his arms like a helicopter propeller. The vigilante stepped aside and hit the monster with a punch to the jaw, then with a powerful knee to the stomach.

"Carol, this is not real! You have to wake up!" he screamed, while the man recovered from the assault and kicked him in the chest, sending him to hit the bed in the room.

Carol put both her hands to her head, in an attempt to suppress the noises caused by the fight.

At the same time, Peter's voice continued to ring in her ears.

"Wake up!"

* * *

**XXXX**

* * *

Peter's body was thrown through the brick wall with the same force as a racing car, pouring shards across the room.  
He tumbled to the ground and continued his advance for five meters, before ending up against a beam.

"I think I broke something", he muttered with a strained voice, while an indescribable feeling of pain and fatigue began to grip his bones and muscles.  
His regenerating factor had already begun to do its job, but he seriously doubted that he would survive another beating.

He had to find a way to fight back ... but how? Carnage itself had already been able to overwhelm him. How could he, a mere neighbourhood vigilante, keep up with one of the most powerful beings in the universe? The answer was simple: he couldn't.  
The only logical solution to surviving this battle ... was to free Carol from the control of that monster.

Looking around, the teenager noticed that he had ended up in an area of the factory still under construction, judging by the numerous building materials scattered around the room.  
Iron beams, nylon ropes, concrete bricks, steel pipes ... none of this would have been useful against a person like Carol, capable of taking a missile in the face without suffering the slightest damage.

As the boy brooded over this, the figure of Carnage through the hole he had opened in the wall of the room a few seconds earlier, smiling maliciously at him. Cletus followed him shortly after, looking at the whole scene with a satisfied expression.

Peter struggled to his feet, spitting a trickle of blood.

"Think about it, Parker. It's not invincible, that thing must have some weak point", he thought with a frown.

He went back to memory, carefully evaluating everything that had happened during his previous confrontations with the monster.

"Wait a second ..." he muttered to himself.

In fact ... there had been a moment, during their last battle, when the creature had seemed to be more in pain than usual. **  
**Before the cistern exploded, in that same laboratory, when the railing had fallen to the ground, producing that deafening din. At that precise moment, he had seen Carnage exhibit pain like never before. But why?  
Had he been taken by surprise? He doubted it strongly. Or…

"Of course ... the noise!" Was the thought that crossed the boy's mind. "It was all that noise that hurt him!"

It was the only logical explanation. Or, at least, the only one that seemed logical to him.  
After all, many animals - such as bats and cetaceans - were sensitive to high-sequence vibrations. Maybe that dress had a similar weakness? Such an eventuality was worth considering, especially as he was running out of alternatives.

At the same time, Kasady pointed to him with his perennial grin.  
"And now, Spiderman ... you will die. It was a really fun game, but I'm afraid it's time for the Game Over", he said dramatically.

Shortly thereafter, Carnage jumped up at him with his jaws wide open, ready to grab him.

Peter was not intimidated.

"Last chance" he muttered.

He fired a spider web and grabbed two metal bars. Then he slammed them against each other, hoping with all himself that his theory was correct.  
Carnage's reaction was instantaneous. It stopped abruptly, bringing both hands to its temples and releasing a desperate lament, while snake-like tendrils protruded from the monster's body. Cletus also seemed influenced by the sound and fell to his knees, screaming in agony.

Under the mask, Spiderman gave a mental cry of victory.

He grabbed another bar and drove it into the floor of the room, making a high-pitched, rattling sound. He did the same with those in his hand, just as the creature seemed about to fight back.

Carnage hissed, withdrawing from the vigilante as if it had been burned.  
Before it could recover, Peter grabbed another bar and slammed it violently to the ground. The monster fell backwards, writhing.

The vigilante imitated the action a second time. And then a third ... and a fourth.  
After this, he grabbed six more bars in quick succession and proceeded to surround Carnage in a sort of cage. Finally, he took one last tube and started rubbing it against the others, while the creature screamed in anger and pain.

* * *

**XXXX**

* * *

Carol's mental landscape began to change.  
What had been a perfect representation of her parents' room until a few seconds earlier began to crumble and deform, as if the house itself had been hit by a tornado.

Thunder and lightning echoed beyond the windows of the house, while Joe Danvers and Spiderman continued to fight in the centre of the room, shattering the furniture and the plaster on the walls.  
 **  
**"I love family reunions. Don't you?" the man said, with the voice of Cletus Kasady.

Peter punched him in the back. He attacked a second time, but the opponent grabbed him in mid-air and smiled at him with his mouth bristling with fangs.  
He sprang forward and bit the boy's right shoulder, making him scream. And the scream rang in Carol's mind, who curled up further on herself.  
Then, Joe grabbed the vigilante by the neck and nailed him to the floor, while his free hand turned into a scarlet knife.

"The tongue beats where the tooth hurts!" he exclaimed, sinking the blade into the Avenger's belly.

"GHAAAA!" Peter yelled, forcing Carol to open her eyes for the first time since that fight had started.

With her great horror, the little girl saw her father kicking the boy's lifeless body, making him bump into the opposite wall of the room. At the same time, the ceiling of the house began to crumble on itself.

Hesitantly, Carol crawled to the superhero figure.

"Peter ..." she whispered weakly.  
She placed a hand on the teenager's injured shoulder and began to shake it. Nothing. The boy remained motionless.

The girl tried a second time, but the result was the same.

"No ..." she whimpered with a low voice, while a copious stain of blood began to wet her knees.

Without paying too much attention, Carol embraced Peter's body and hugged him to herself, as rivers of tears began to flow down her cheeks.  
He was dead. She ... was alone. Completely abandoned to herself.

"Peter, please ... don't leave me …" she sobbed, through the lightning of the storm.

At the same time, Carnage's dark laughter echoed behind her.

An unexpected fury replaced the sadness that gripped the girl's heart.  
Carol stood slowly, her face adorned with an empty expression, her hands wet with the blood of the one who had tried to protect her.  
She turned to his father.

"You ... you're not real" she said after a few moments of silence.

Joe Danvers tilted his head slightly, peering her from head to foot with deep black eyes.

"What is it, little angel? Don't you recognize your daddy anymore?" he asked mockingly, raising both lips in a grotesque grin.

Carol was tempted to take a step backwards. Instead, she clenched her hands into fists and took a deep breath.

"You're not here ... you're not real ..." she repeated with more force, while a faint glow began to wrap her fingers.

Seemingly surprised, her father's face went from a grinning mask to a worried look.

"Because if you are real ... Peter is dead ... and Peter cannot be dead", the girl growled, her eyes now illuminated by a golden light.

Joe Danvers' projection seemed to swallow. "Carol, darling ... light of my life ..."

"You are not real!" the little girl screamed, while that same glow began to illuminate her like the flame of a fire. At the same instant, a shock wave started directly from the girl's body, throwing the parent against the opposite wall of the room, breaking the windows of the house and the last planks of the roof into pieces, and making the whole house tremble.

"None of this is real!" Carol shouted, with more force. And now she no longer had the body of a child, but that of an adult woman in her prime.

A ray of golden light illuminated the darkness of her mind, piercing the storm as if it had been generated by the sun itself.  
And then, Peter's voice rang in the superheroine's ears once again.

"CAROL!"

* * *

**XXXX**

* * *

Carol Danvers opened her eyes.

The world around her was blurred, scarlet, as if she were observing her surroundings through a red veil.  
She saw Peter a few steps away from her, and the cage of pipes that surrounded her. She heard the symbiote screaming for the pain caused by the sounds and flames burning inside her.

Taking a deep breath, she tapped into the anger she felt and began to release cosmic energy.

The symbiote began to scream louder, like an injured child, while tentacles and tendrils stirred madly around the superheroine figure.

Cletus and Peter looked at the whole scene with wide eyes.

"Impossible…" the serial killer muttered, visibly shocked by that unexpected turn of events

The light surrounding Carol grew more intense. And as the glow grew ... the hold of the symbiote on her became weaker and weaker.

Carnage's mask half retracted, revealing the woman's face.

"Peter ... run", she whispered, as soon as her eyes rested on the teenager.  
 **  
**Without wasting time, the boy launched himself towards the nearest window, while behind him the light became almost blinding. At the same time, the floor around Carol began to crumble, the pipes surrounding her began to melt and a loud buzz rang out the length of the factory.

And when Peter threw himself against the window, Cletus Kasady let out a resigned sigh.  
"I knew it, I should have been an actor ..."

**BOOM!**

Carol screamed, as the cosmic energy around her exploded in every direction, burning everything it came in contact with.  
The symbiote shrieked in pain and despair, feeling fear for the first time since it was created in that laboratory. Each of its smaller cells was reduced to a heap of ash, evaporating in the air.

Cletus was thrown by the shock wave, crossed the wall of the room and ended up in the Hudson River with a loud thud.

The whole factory caught fire in the fraction of a few moments.

The explosion illuminated the night of New York, and every person who was in the vicinity of the chemical complex found himself dazzled by the intensity of that flash.  
Then, darkness and silence reigned over the whole area.

Peter was dragged by the river current for at least a couple of minutes, tossing from one side of the canal to the other. When he was able to restrain his advance, clinging to a nearby trunk, he was almost beyond the factory boundary.

Even in total darkness, it was not difficult to spot the flames rising from the now destroyed complex. Step by step, he tried to reach the shore.

Finally, the muddy bottom began to give way to gravel and rocks. The water drained from the armour as he staggered to land.  
He slumped to the ground and took quick breaths of air. Shortly thereafter, a familiar light began to drive away the darkness that surrounded him.

A flicker of footsteps forced him to open his eyes.

"Carol", he whispered with a little smile, while the figure of the woman was revealed above him.

She smiled in turn and knelt in front of him, then began to trace his features.  
Seeing his battered face full of cuts, the superheroine couldn't help but put a hand to her mouth.

"Peter, I ..."  
Before she could finish the sentence, the young man threw himself against her and wrapped both arms around her dazzling figure, holding her close.

"You're ok. Thank goodness, you're ok", he muttered in her neck, while the blonde blushed furiously.

After a few moments of hesitation, she returned the hug and let herself be lulled by the familiar scent of the vigilante.  
"Let's not do it again", she sighed tiredly. Regardless, Peter found himself chuckling.

Both parted.  
Carol pinned the boy's cheek and peered at him with evident concern.

"You've lost a lot of blood. Don't worry, the others will be here in a moment", she said reassuringly.

Peter nodded weakly.

It was over. It was finally over. They had stopped Carnage and the city was safe **.** Tonight people would sleep soundly, away from the horrors of a world that was becoming increasingly insane.

"I suppose I'll have to call May, she must be really worried", he thought with a touch of irony.  
He looked up to meet Carol's eyes ... and stopped.

"Watch out!" he exclaimed, grabbing the woman by the shoulders and pushing her to the side. She barely had time to turn her head.

Cletus Kasady was behind her, covered in blood and burns, his eyes red as a pair of burning embers and his lips curled into a crazy smile. In his right hand he held a sharp piece of foil raised in mid-air, ready to be lowered onto the woman's head.

Peter knew that Carol's skin was strong enough to survive the explosion of a surface-to-air missile, but the instinct to protect her got the better of common sense. **  
**The blade went down to the boy's heart like a guillotine. Time seemed to slow down.

The sound of a gunshot was heard. A rush of blood. Silence.

Cletus Kasady widened his eyes in surprise, while a small hole formed right in the middle of his forehead.  
He lost his grip on the blade and fell backwards, releasing a stifled groan.

Both Peter and Carol spun around.

About a hundred meters from them, perched on the top of a roof, there was a slender female figure wrapped in a white and silver suit that covered her from head to toe. In her hands she held what seemed to be a sniper rifle.

Both Avengers widened their eyes, dumbfounded. At the same time, the mysterious individual jumped out of the building with impressive agility and disappeared into the shadows of the night.

Carol prepared to chase her. However, just before she could even get up, the body of a certain wall climber slumped against her.

"Peter!"


	15. The End

Peter Parker woke up with a start, realizing instantly that he was in a rather familiar place: the Avengers' infirmary.

Moaning, he thumped back on the bed and briefly glanced over the half-open window of the room.

The rain came down fast, strong, constant and there was something blue in the light that filtered weakly through the purple clouds. It seemed to be trapped in a secret world under a dome of water, an autumnal place where time and space did not exist.  
The hissing between the pine branches seemed an electrostatic noise.

The boy stood there breathing the sweet scent of the trees and the water beating on the flower beds, trying to understand how the hell he ended up on that bed.  
Then, the memories of the previous night all came to him at once, forcing him to put a hand on his head to curb the resulting migraine. It was then that he realized the plaster that covered his left arm, connected to the shoulder with some bandages.

"I must have broken it by fighting Carnage", he realized.

The sound of the door opening attracted his attention.  
Carol Danvers, dressed in her Captain Marvel suit, hesitantly entered the room and began to peer at the teenager.

Peter stared at her in turn, starting a competition of glances that lasted for almost a good minute.

"... We should really stop meeting like this", he said with an impertinent smile, using the exact same words that she had addressed to him after their battle with Electro, almost a year earlier.

The woman wrinkled her face in a discontented frown.  
"How can he continue to joke even in such a situation?" she thought irritably.

Taking a deep breath, she walked over to the boy's bed and sat down next to him.  
"How do you feel?" she asked in a visibly worried tone.

Peter let out a tired sigh.  
"As if I had been run over by a Chitauri ship", he admitted. Then, he meet the warm brown eyes of the blonde. "And you?"

"I think I'll have nightmares for a few weeks", the woman muttered, shivering because of everything she had seen when she was under Carnage's control.  
Beside her, the vigilante peered at her uneasily. God, he didn't even want to think about how it could have been to enter the mind of a psychopath like Cletus Kasady.

He placed a hand on Carol's, in an attempt to comfort her, but the Avenger's expression didn't change.

They remained silent for a while longer, accompanied only by the low, rhythmic noise of the only clock attached to the clinic wall.

"I'm about to leave Earth", Carol said suddenly.

Peter's heart skipped a beat.  
Unconsciously, he tightened his grip on the woman's hand, which certainly didn't go unnoticed by her.

The vigilante looked down, unsure of how to answer to that unexpected statement.  
"Is it… is it because of me?" he asked, after a few moments of hesitation.

Carol smiled sadly at him.  
"No, it's not your fault", she said, giving him a comforting pat on the good shoulder. "It's just that I've been away from space for several months. And as you know, Earth is not the only planet that needs constant help."

She sighed, turning her gaze towards the window and observing the panorama that stood out beyond that thin glass plate.

"Also ... it'll give me time to think. The meeting with Kasady brought back memories that I hoped to have buried forever", she continued reluctantly.

Peter stared at her sadly, but spoke no word.

Silence reigned in the room. Neither of them seemed willing to resume the discussion, and it started to make Carol uncomfortable.

"Pepper knows", she spat in one breath.

Peter's eyes widened like plates.  
"... Oh", was all he managed to say.

Despite her best judgment, the woman found herself chuckling.

"Yes, with all that happened I almost forgot to tell you", she muttered with a slight blush.

"Anyone else?" he asked wearily.

"Bucky", Carol replied, smiling ironically.

Peter nodded to himself. "It doesn't surprise me, they have always been perceptive. How did they take it?"

The woman shrugged. "Bucky took it quite well. Considering all that he and Steve went through, it wasn't a big deal for him."

The boy smiled relieved.  
"I'm glad to hear it. What about Pepper?" he asked hesitantly.

The woman began to scratch her head, her face adorned with a puzzled expression.  
"We've come to an ... understanding, I think", she replied after a moment of silence.

Peter stared at her dryly. "... I'll talk to her."

"Yes, I think you should", the woman said quickly. After all, the last thing she wanted was to find an entire Iron Legion on her heels once she returned to Earth.

"But ... do I really want to come back?" was the treacherous thought that crossed the heroine's mind, making her jump.

Peter noticed, and looked at her worried. In that moment, the blonde found herself mirrored in the teenager's eyes, so similar to hers ... yet so different at the same time. So full of life.

"I'm sorry", she snapped suddenly, firmly grasping the boy's hand.

Initially surprised by the small outburst, the teenager sent her a gentle smile. "You don't have to apologize to me."

"Actually yes. Yes I have to", Carol retorted, before taking a deep breath. "For what I did ... and what I said. For everything."

Then, slowly, almost hesitantly, she raised her other hand and placed it on the vigilante's cheek.

"Especially ... for what I have to do now", she whispered with a low voice.

Peter's smile remained unchanged. "Okay."

"No, it's not okay", the woman sighed. However, the expression on the boy's face remained the same.

"Yes, it is", he said with a shrug of his good shoulder.

Carol closed her eyes, feeling an unpleasant grasp grip her heart.  
"Peter, I ... I'm trying to break up with you."

"I know."

"?!"

Time seemed to stop.

The woman opened her eyes, meeting those of the teenager. He continued to smile and put his right hand on her cheek.

"It's all right", he said with greater emphasis.

Carol opened her mouth wide.  
"How can it be all right?" she asked incredulously.

Peter shrugged a second time. "Because I can wait."

The blonde's heart skipped a beat.

She took a deep breath and stared intently at the wall-climber. "I can't ask you to wait, I don't want you to do it."

"There's no need", Peter retorted, maintaining a completely calm tone of voice. "We'll be together in the end."

This time, despite her best efforts to avoid it, the woman broke into a choked laugh. All under the cordial gaze of the arachnid.

After calming down, she took the boy's hand, gently moved it away from her face and said: "I don't believe in fate."

"And until ten years ago I didn't believe in aliens", Peter replied, continuing to smile.

Then, he leaned forward and, before Carol could react, put his lips on hers.  
It was a sweet kiss, devoid of malice or resentment. A simple gesture of affection, a greeting and a promise mixed together, something that only she would have been able to interpret.

Initially, the woman was tempted to withdraw. She knew that, if they continued, their separation would be even more difficult. But she didn't come off. She remained motionless, letting the boy deepen the contact. At least she owed him this.

When he broke away, she could barely sustain the bright expression that formed on the teenager's face.

"I want to be many things for you, Carol Danvers. What I don't want to be ... is the kind of man who keeps you on the ground", he said with a de facto tone.

Mentally, the woman let out a resigned sigh.  
"God, why does he have to be so damned romantic?" she thought with an ironic smile.

She got out of the bed with a prominent flush and placed a quick kiss on the boy's forehead.

"Take care of yourself, Peter. I'm serious", she ordered with a firm voice.

In response, the wall-climber sent her an impertinent grin.  
"I'll do my best", he said with a flirtatious voice.

The woman rolled her eyes and proceeded to leave the room. Not before, however, taking one last look at the vigilante.

When she closed the door, Peter collapsed once more on the mattress of the bed.

"Yes, I can definitely wait", he muttered to himself.

He had so many questions that still ran through his head. How did Cletus get his powers? How did he know so many things about him? What the hell was going on in this city?  
Yes, many questions and no answers. But they too could wait.

He turned his gaze towards the ceiling.  
It was all quiet. He felt completely at peace.

He didn't know what would happen the next day, and he honestly didn't care. He had fought too much.  
He closed his eyes, preparing to sleep. Because ... after all, yes: tomorrow would have been another day.

He barely had time to process that thought. Just a second later, a visibly angry May Parker threw open the infirmary door and entered the room like a fury.

"You have A LOT of explanations to give me, young man", she said coldly.  
**  
** Peter swallowed in fear.  
"Damn..."

***

When someone interesting died, Kyle Aldler, security guard at the New York General Hospital for almost five years, always photographed him.

There had recently been a local news reporter, a beautiful thirty-two year old woman with black hair and light green eyes, who had been pierced through with a sharp object.  
Kyle had gone to the morgue at one in the morning, pulled her out of the drawer and sat her down. He had put his arm around her and, while pulling out his cell phone to take a picture of her, he had bent down to simulate a kiss.

Then, just two days earlier, it had been Judge Vernon Claridge's turn.  
Kyle had pulled him out of the drawer, put a wig with ringlets on his head, folded his fingers in the shape of a crown, and took a picture of the two of them together.  
He would have liked to get a photo of Mayor James Erbert as well, but his body had proved virtually unrecognizable due to the burns.

It was his girlfriend, Amanda, who told him that the body of Cletus Kasady, aka Carnage, who had become the most prolific serial killer in the history of the United States of America, would soon arrive at the morgue.

The news had been talking about him for two days. How the monster who had terrorized New York back in 2011 had emerged as a vengeful fury from the hole in which he had been imprisoned, armed with superpowers and ready to unleash his murderous madness on the poor and helpless citizens of New York. How Spiderman and Captain Marvel managed to stop him before he could turn the whole city into a cemetery.

A definitely compelling story, worthy of a Hollywood film, so much so that in a few hours it had already travelled around the whole world.  
And this is why Amanda had asked him to get her a picture of Kasady.

She was a nurse two floors upstairs in the senior ward and had always been a fan of his pictures of famous dead people. Precisely for this reason, she was always the first to which he sent them.

The girl found Kyle funny, and often told him that he should go on television. He too was very fond of her. After all, she was one of the few people in the hospital who had the key to the medicine cabinet, and on Saturday nights she always stole something good for both.

Initially, Kyle had felt rather uncomfortable with the idea of finding himself alone in a room with the body of a monster like Kasady, although he was dead.  
When he asked Amanda why the hell she wanted a picture of the killer, she replied: "Serial killers are sexy. They remind me of everything I would be willing to do in order not to be take a picture of him and send it to me by e-mail. Then tell me what you will do to me if I don't undress for you."

Kyle saw no reason to contradict his logic.  
In any case, he still had his patrol to do. And then, Cletus Kasady had become a real celebrity, it was certainly worth taking a picture to add to the collection.  
Kyle already had bizarre ones, but it seemed right to add one with a serial killer, to show his darker and more serious side. Especially if that serial killer had fucking superpowers!

He went to the lower part of the building that evening, where patients were not allowed to enter.  
Kyle thought Kasady was in the morgue, instead he found out that one of the doctors had already started working on him in the autopsy room. However, he had abandoned him to resume the next day.

The guard turned on the lights above the tables, leaving the rest of the room in the dark.  
Whoever was working on the killer had covered the body with the sheet before leaving. It was the only body in the room that evening.

The man took a deep breath and lowered the white cloth to his ankles to give him a good look. The chest had been opened, then stitched up with a rough black thread. The incision went down to the pelvic bone.

The dead man had slightly serrated and badly serrated upper teeth. The eyes were closed. He had a strange scar on his forehead.  
Kyle grimaced, looked away and started fumbling with the cell phone camera.

Not that the dead made an impression on him. He wasn't even afraid of the dark. If anything about his mother, or when Amanda got angry with him, or, as happened in some of his nightmares, to turn into dust as had happened to his father about seven years ago, during the Snap.

As he mulled over this, his gaze rested once more on the serial killer's face ... and froze.  
For a moment, Kyle thought he was hallucinating. Because that corpse ... now had his eyes open.

The guard's heart skipped a beat.

He had seen quite a few dead, but they all had their eyes closed. And when they were open, they had a frothy feel, as if something had curled inside. But these eyes seemed bright and awake.  
They were alive, not dead. With a strange cat curiosity.

They closed after a couple of seconds. And then, the chest of the corpse begins to rise and fall, followed by a low and rhythmic hiss.  
It was then that Kyle Aldler came to an inevitable conclusion. Cletus Kasady... was not dead at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BOOM!  
> So, guys, this is the end of THIS story. But don't worry! Because I'm writing...a SEQUEL!  
> First, however, I want to finish writing Avengers: The King Of Terror, an Avengers and Godzilla crossover in which the Avengers find themselves fighting King Ghidorah. Peter and Carol are a couple in that story too, if you want to check it out ;)  
> When I'll start the new story, I'll write note here to let you know. It will be also a crossover with other fandoms.
> 
> I hope you liked this story, let me know!


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